


Strange Partners

by Gort, sunalso



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: Comedy, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Sorry Not Sorry, Talking Penis, Talking Vagina
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-17
Updated: 2017-04-17
Packaged: 2018-10-20 05:22:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 41,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10655787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Gort/pseuds/Gort, https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunalso/pseuds/sunalso
Summary: Season 5 AU: Spike’s been cursed before, but never quite like this. Set at the end of “Family”. We're sorry (but not really).Beta'd by FlowerOfTheWolf.We didn't skimp on the smut, just so you know ;-) And yes, you are supposed to laugh. Maybe just don't drink anything and read, it's a bit of a heath hazard as sooner or later your beverage will probably come shooting out of your nose. No, seriously, I'm not kidding. Put that down! (Maybe don't eat anything, either).





	1. Silence is Golden

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for taking a chance on the craziness! SunAlso wrote the odds, Gort the evens :-D

Screaming probably wouldn’t help.

Plus it would scare people.

Letting all her frustration out in one fell swoop did sound appealing, however. Buffy had had enough. She’d moved out of the dorm, found out her sister wasn’t really her sister (kind of), had to deal with Riley being needy, her mom being sick, and now terrible people. Humans were supposed to be the good guys, though that binary hadn’t been working well for her for a long time.

Stupid Initiative.

How could Tara’s family treat her like that? Telling her what to do and where she belonged. Buffy looked heavenward. “Yeah, I get the irony.”

“What was that?” Giles asked.

“Nothing,” she called. Why had Tara been so worried about being part demon? If there was a group of people that should be open minded about the whole thing, it was the scoobies. Maybe. Possibly. They tried.

She grabbed the body of the demon she’d broken the neck of and hauled it by its ankles into the training room before dropping it. She’d deal with the two bodies…three? There was a third one with an axe in its head. Buffy pulled the weapon free and frowned at the blade. She hadn’t done that. The fight had been chaotic but it wasn’t like she would forget cleaving something’s skull open. So who?

Spike.

He’d come from the back room.

When her invisible assailants had first struck they had seemed to be everywhere, but then things had gotten easier, like the number of attackers had dropped from two to one. Buffy blinked. Spike would have been invisible too, because of the spell. He’d helped her, probably saved her life, and hadn’t said a thing about it. That was weird.

Turning on her heel she rushed back to the main part of the store but he was nowhere to be seen. “Where’d Spike go?” she asked the room in general.

Anya shrugged a shoulder. “I think he left a while ago.”

“Oh.” Buffy wrinkled her nose and jogged to the back door, but he wasn’t out there loitering or littering the pavement with cigarette butts. That was too bad, she would have liked to have said something because it was nice of him to have helped. Though he might not appreciate being told that and launch into some long-winded defense of how evil he was, which she would have to stand there and listen to while staring at him.

_ Because that would be a hardship _ , a little voice in the back of her brain said. It was one she liked to pretend didn’t exist.

With a huff, she returned to cleaning up the back room. How long had Spike been there, anyway? Had he been watching her work out? Like, eww. She ignored the faint throb from her nether regions. If he had he was so dead. Which he should be anyway. That was how she should be thinking of him, all dry and dusty.

The annoying little voice popped back up.  _ Not much dry when you think about Spike… _

Buffy wanted to scream again.

Snapping off the lights in the back she marched to the front of the store and grabbed the broom from Dawn, who shrugged and went to help Tara neaten a shelf instead. Frustrated sweeping was at least cathartic.

Lately she’d been doing frustrated everything, but It wasn’t her fault that her boyfriend was still…learning how to please her. Though it was kind of her fault that she’d gotten bored that one time and had wiggled and moaned while doing a little squeezing. Riley had been so thrilled that he’d gotten her off. Since then she’d been repeating the performance so she didn’t hurt his feelings. Though it sort of hurt hers that he had no clue. 

No to mention that if she wanted an orgasm, she had to click her own mouse, which tended to lead to all kinds of bad thoughts. None of which were about Riley. She could pretend some of them were about Angel. Only she was still mad at him for being pretty much useless for more than a year now.

At least Angel had known where her clit was.

Maybe she could draw Riley a map.

The teeny voice spoke up one more time.  _ I bet Spike doesn’t need a map… _

“Shut up!” she snapped. Her brain was being ridiculous.

“What?” Xander looked up from the book he was napping over. “What’d I do? Or not do?”

“Nothing.” Buffy frowned. “Though Giles might not want you drooling on the manuscripts.”

“I wasn’t drooling, my mouth just sprung a leak.”

Buffy snorted. “You should probably leak somewhere else.”

Giles came out of his office with a book in his hand. “I think we’re done for tonight. I’ll pull the car around back, if you’d be so good to help me with the bodies, Buffy.”

“Sure.” That sounded like fun, not. At least it kept her from going home and sitting in the dark while thinking more about…uh…nothing, nothing at all. She sighed. “I’ll help you get the insane clown posse loaded up.”

She wondered were Riley had gotten to. He’d be helpful right about now. Instead she was left wishing for a strong pair or arms to hold her–that most certainly weren’t cold– and a big, thick…uh, slice of pizza to eat.

****

It’d been a sodding terrible night.

“She could have at least said thank you,” Spike muttered to himself. “Thanks for saving my bloody life! Thanks for giving yourself a blasted migraine for my friend! Thanks for not finding a way for me to fall into a pit of spears and be skewered to death! But no!” He looked heavenward. “I don’t even get a pat on the back or so much as looked at twice. Should have just let her get killed.”

That was a lie. He was getting good at those. Go watch the Slayer get murdered. Ha! Good one, Spike. Now if he’d known she and her mates hadn’t been able to see demons…

He’d have taken out the whole lot of Lei-Achs and followed Buffy home. Right into her girly bedroom. Spike paused just inside the gate to Restfield cemetery as his imagination caught up with him. What did the Slayer wear to bed? A frilly little nightgown? Nothing at all? She would have been worked up after that fight and soldier boy hadn’t been there, so she’d need release.

He groaned, what he wouldn’t give to be the one to provide it to her.

In his mind, Buffy pulled off the top she’d been wearing, then her jeans. She shimmied out of her panties and left them laying on the floor.

Walking slower and a lot more awkwardly with the erection the image of a naked Buffy crawling into bed had given him, he continued towards his crypt. It was too bad no one was waiting for him there. Harmony had gotten too annoying weeks ago and Spike had tossed her out on her ass, but that left him with no one besides Rosie Palm and her five sisters for company. He groaned. Just seeing Buffy was enough to set him off, let alone watching her fight.

It was such a cruel joke. Feelings for a Slayer.

She was magnificent. How she fought, how she stood up for her family and friends, how she never gave up, her scent, how she filled out a pair of jeans, how her tits bounced when she…

He was so buggered.

Fate, the bitch, could have at least let him get a good peek at Buffy naked. Did she have any tan lines at all? His imagination didn’t seem to think so. He returned to his fantasy of Buffy on all fours on her bed, her plump little pussy on display, unknowingly wagging her behind at invisible him. She sighed. “That Riley just isn’t doing it for me. I need a guy who can really fuck me hard.”

Spike paused. Would Buffy say fuck? Was there a cute, Valley-girl thing she’d say instead? Oh balls, it was his fantasy, she could talk dirty. And there was zero doubt in his mind that Riley wasn’t giving Buffy what she needed. If he was she wouldn’t be so bitchy all the time. It be a blasted public service if the wanker could get her off.

Fantasy-Buffy groaned and slipped a hand between her legs. “I bet Spike could make me come,” she panted. Damn right he could. His hand pushed against his hard-on. One night, hell one time, and she’d be his. Mr. Boring boyfriend would be hung out to dry.

Christ, at this rate he wasn’t even going to make it to his crypt.

He did his best to push pause on the Buffy-porno. He didn’t need to be caught out in the open with his pants literally down around his ankles.

He stuck his hands in his duster pockets to keep them from doing something like unzipping his fly and tried to focus on unpleasant ideas, like Giles in a speedo, instead. That almost did the trick, except that his mind placed said Giles into Fantasy-Buffy’s bedroom.

Y’know, he’d always wondered about those two. They were bloody close for being Slayer and Watcher. Spike shook his head and banished Giles from his thoughts. Whatever real-Buffy was up to–and he hoped it wasn’t diddling her Watcher on the side–Fantasy-Buffy certainly didn’t want the berk.

Spike sighed in relief as his crypt came into view. In his daydream, he knocked something off Fantasy-Buffy’s dresser. Startled, she jumped up. “Who’s there?” Fantasy-him was already naked. He reached out and flicked  the end of her nose. Her fists came up and her tits swayed. Oh yeah, that was the ticket. He aimed a punch at her face, but she blocked him (in his fantasies the chip never worked). She countered with a swing at his gut. He caught her arm and spun her before pulling her back against him so he could grind his erection against her ass.

“Spike?” Fantasy-Buffy whispered.

“You know it,” he rumbled back. She bucked against him, probably trying to throw him off, but it had the effect of letting her get a real good feel of his cock. She moaned.

The door to his crypt creaked open as Spike hurried inside. For a second he thought he could hear high-pitched laughter. He must have left the bloody TV on again. Spike slammed the door closed and leaned against it. His belt jingled as he unbuckled it.

Oh, thank god.

He wrapped his hand around his aching prick.


	2. Green-Eyed Monster

“Thanks for the ride, Giles,” Buffy said as she climbed out of his car. “Sorry about the…goop in the back.”

Giles sighed. “Why do none of you have a junk heap of a car that we could transport dead demons in like proper college students?”

Buffy shrugged. “Actually, Spi-” She caught herself just in time. She hadn’t told Giles about Spike’s uncharacteristic good deed earlier, and mentioning the vampire now would just cause Giles to go off on a rant about personal space and personal property and how terrible Spike was at recognizing either of those things. Last time Giles has run out of tea at that Magic Box, Buffy would swear she’d heard him grumbling about ‘thieving vampires’. “Um, I mean, if I stumble across a real-life scoobie van for dead demon transportation, I’ll be sure and let you know.”

She slammed the car door and waved as Giles drove off into the night before pulling her jacket around her a little tighter and looking up at the lit windows of her house. 

She still felt tense and unfulfilled, despite all the demon killing and frustrated sweeping she’d done. Oh sure, it had worked for a minute, but nothing managed to completely distract her from Spike’s earlier weirdness. If he really had been watching her work out he’d certainly been stealthy about it, which was pretty much the opposite of Spike’s style . She couldn’t remember anything strange happening while she’d been taking out her frustrations on the practice dummy. Maybe she should go find him and demand to know what he was up to. She might even have to touch him—uh, punch him—to get him to talk. Last time he’d been this conveniently useful he’d been working for that stupid monster made of people parts.  

Buffy paused, idly wondering what Spike would have done if those creepy circus rejects hadn’t shown up at all. Would he have teased her a little, caressing her with feather-light touches just long enough to let her know he was there without giving her a chance to retaliate? Would he have whispered something dirty in her ear in that husky, low voice that drove her absolutely crazy while she was going through the motions of staking a vampire? Buffy shivered, though she wasn’t even close to being cold anymore.

One of the lights winked out upstairs and Buffy realized it was later than she’d thought. She sighed and seriously considered climbing up the tree to get in through her window before deciding that’d be a minus in the dutiful daughter column. She trudged up the porch steps and opened the front door, catching Dawn just before she thundered up the stairs.

“Mom already went to bed,” Dawn said, somehow making the statement sound accusing. “And Riley’s called like, five hundred times looking for you. God, why can’t I get my own phone line?” Dawn flounced upstairs, the cordless phone in her hand, leaving Buffy standing alone in the dark foyer.

Buffy shrugged out of her coat and went upstairs herself, trailing her hand along the smooth wood of the banister. She should probably call Riley back, but it seriously wasn’t worth prying the phone away from Dawn. She’d had less and less to say to him lately, and the only response he seemed capable of was to whine about how she wasn’t paying enough attention to him. She scowled as she went into her room and closed the door behind her. She wasn’t paying him enough attention? She could fake an orgasm while painting her nails and he’d probably still pat himself on the back for a job well done.

Buffy toed off her shoes and rolled her shoulders, trying to release the tension there. She’d talk to Riley tomorrow, but in the meantime, she was going to put herself first for once. 

She glanced at her window, which was slightly ajar, and imagined it slowly sliding up on its own accord. If those other demons hadn’t interrupted, maybe Spike would have followed her home, thinking she wouldn’t know he was there. Maybe he’d even decide to help her with her little…problem. She pushed away her guilt and concentrated on just feeling. It was only a fantasy, after all. It wasn’t any different than picturing Ethan Hawke when Riley was taking forever to finish . Totally harmless.

She undressed slowly, envisioning a very appreciative invisible audience of one. She dropped her bra to the floor and stretched her arms overhead, closing her eyes and letting out a little gasp as imaginary hands—deliciously cold on her overheated skin—cupped her breasts from behind and plucked at her hard nipples. Buffy let out a low moan as she stretched out on her bed and wiggled out of her underwear. Would he help her pull them down, impatient to get her naked? Would his hands push her legs apart so he could crawl between them? Was his tongue as cool as his fingers? She reached down between her legs and closed her eyes.

***

“Yeah, Slayer, you like that?” Spike growled. His hand was tight around his hard shaft as he fisted his cock for the umpteenth time that night. The whole invisible thing had really added some great material to his usual repertoire. The Buffy in his mind’s eye was riding him like a rodeo queen, her blonde hair flashing silver in the moonlight streaming into her bedroom and her perky tits bouncing. He’d heard her little performances for that block of wood she called a boyfriend through her open window, so he had some idea of how she’d sound during sex, but he was sure she was much more uninhibited when she was actually enjoying herself.

“Oh, yes!” fantasy-Buffy cried out, her back arching as she came on his prick, screaming his name.

Spike groaned through his own release, his cock pulsing in his hand as he spilled his load onto one of his last clean t-shirts. Bugger, he was going to have to let himself into the Watcher’s place to do some laundry tomorrow.

Spike sighed and released his softening cock, though he knew from experience it’d be hard again soon enough. Ever since he’d realized he actually loved that bitch of a Slayer he’d been practically rubbing himself raw. He could hardly believe he’d stooped to helping her not get her head taken off, not to mention the assist he’d given the witches. And she still hadn’t bothered to thank him! He’d have settled for nice hug (and a chance to cop a feel), or a kiss, or even a flash of her tits. He wasn’t picky.

Something rustled in a far corner and Spike glared across the room. The trouble with being a creature of the night was that he really disliked all the other creatures that shared his affinities. He wondered if the Watcher might also have a few rat traps Spike could pilfer.

He rose from his comfy chair and headed for the fridge, doing up his jeans and dropping his shirt to the floor. He rubbed his bare chest absentmindedly just above where his heart lay, wondering what other kinds of idiocy it was going to get him into before it got him killed. He frowned at the nearly-empty interior of his refrigerator and added raiding ol’ Rupes’ pantry to his to-do list. He popped the top off of a container of blood and made a face at the congealed mess inside before putting it back and slamming the fridge door closed.

Spike turned and surveyed his dusty crypt, scowling. Even the telly couldn’t hold his attention lately, what with Buffy filling his head. He used to be someone, and now he was practically begging for scraps off the Slayer’s table. When had he gotten so pathetic?

His scowl softened as he pictured Buffy’s golden hair, gleaming and shiny with sweat glistening on her skin while she trained. He hadn’t even started in on the fantasies starring invisible him showing the Slayer a good time in the back room of the Magic Box without any demon interruptions. His cock stiffened and Spike was already unzipping again as he bypassed his chair and headed down below. He shucked off his jeans, leaving them in a heap next to his bed as he stretched out and fisted his growing erection.

A candle was burning in the alcove near the foot of the bed, its flickering light bringing to life one of the drawings he’d done of the Slayer’s face. It was a poor likeness, but if he squinted he could see her in the hesitant, penciled lines he’d pulled from his memory and tried to put onto paper. He needed to swipe some photographs of her, preferably ones where she wasn’t wearing much.

Spike leisurely stroked his cock, settling back against the pillows and closing his eyes. He pictured himself turning up at the Magic Box just as Buffy was finishing her training for the day. Her skimpy tank top was even skimpier than usual, and the bottom was tied up in some girly fashion, exposing her flat abdomen. She was also wearing a very tiny skirt. Riley, her useless lunk of a man, was sitting in a disheveled heap in one corner. It looked like she’d beaten the tar out of him and hardly broken a sweat. She started her cooling off stretches, unaware that anyone else was in the room with them.

As Spike circled her, admiring her heaving breasts, she sighed sadly. “It was fine, Riley, really.” Spike grinned at the false note in her tone, though he’d bet her boy was too thick to notice. He ghosted a hand down her spine and Buffy stiffened, turning to look straight through him. Which was too bad, really, considering that he’d somehow lost his clothes between the door and where he was standing now.

Riley leaned back against a stack of mats. “Great,” he said tiredly.

“Need someone to show you what a real good time looks like, Slayer?” Spike rumbled in her ear, watching her eyes widen.

“Spike?” Buffy hissed under her breath, but she didn’t move away.

Spike shushed her and crowded her up against the pommel horse, his bare cock coming to rest against her hip so she could feel how hard she was making him. Buffy let out a little whimper, her nipples hardening into points under the thin fabric of her shirt. He always knew all that fighting revved her up, same as him, and that pathetic ex-soldier couldn’t come close to satisfying her.

“Turn around, pet,” Spike murmured, his lips against her ear. Buffy’s entire body trembled but she obeyed, turning to press her perfect ass against his prick and bracing her hands against the pommel horse. Spike slipped a hand between her legs, finding her pussy wet and ready for him. The little minx wasn’t even wearing underwear. He pushed her skirt up and slammed his cock home without warning, making her gasp in surprise.

Riley barely stirred in his corner. “Everything okay?” he mumbled, sounding exhausted.

Buffy’s cunt was hot and tight around his prick, a perfect fit. Spike pulled out an inch or two and pushed back in again, making her moan quietly. “Oh yes,” Buffy said breathlessly, wiggling her bum against his pelvis and spreading her legs a little wider as Spike began to fuck her in earnest. His hands crept up under her shirt and cupped her bare tits, using them as leverage as he pounded into her while her clueless boyfriend sat only a few feet away.

Buffy’s moans started to get louder, making Spike pause for a moment. With his cock buried inside of her, he reached up to cover her mouth. She sucked two of his fingers between her luscious lips as he started thrusting into her again, swirling her tongue around them and giving him a demonstration of her oral skills he was definitely going to be making use of later. He slammed himself home one last time as she shuddered and he came on the heels of her climax, his cock pulsing inside her warm body as he flooded her with his come.

Spike groaned as he finished, his eyes blinking open in the cavern, empty except for him. He slumped against the pillows and rooted around until he found the one with a sweater pulled over it. He’d swiped it during one of his forays to the magic shop and so far Buffy hadn’t seemed to notice it was missing. Her scent was starting to fade but it was better than nothing. Spike flung an arm over it and buried his nose against the knit fabric, drowsy at last.

“It’s about damn time!” he would swear a small, faraway voice said just as he was slipping into sleep. Spike lifted his head and glanced around, but he was alone. He blinked as the candle guttered out and settled back down before his cock got any other bright ideas.


	3. Look Who's Talking

It wasn’t quite nightfall when Spike woke. He scrunched his eyes closed, trying to hold onto what he’d been dreaming. Something about Buffy licking a vanilla ice cream cone and saying she wanted to live with him on a submarine. That’d work. He’d build a house for her on the top of Mt. Everest or at the bottom of the Marianas Trench if she asked. The dream was slipping away and being replaced by an incessant throbbing from his groin.

He groaned. Bugger. Not that he didn’t start every evening off this way.

Rolling onto his back, he spat in his palm and fisted his hard-on. Wanking when he first woke-up, while nothing to be proud of, was always sweet. The fantasies of Buffy were half-formed things, more impressions of her warmth, what her golden skin would feel like, the taste of her mouth as she pressed it with tenderness against his.

His heart clenched. That’s what he wanted, at least in this moment. He liked her fists, her strength, hell, even the sharpness of her tongue, but he’d trade a hundred years of his existence to have a single moment of her sweetness directed at him.  

“Oh, Buffy,” he breathed, the hand around his prick tightening as he steadily worked towards his peak. “Love you.”

“Well, that’s pathetic.”

Spike froze. His eyes popped open and he looked around. His room seemed the same as always. He didn’t scent or sense anybody hanging about, either.

“Didn’t mean to make you stop. By all means continue, but can you ramble on about her tits or her sucking me off or something? I’m going to be thinking about getting in her nice hot cunt.”

Spike sat up and frantically threw the covers off, because that voice had come from…

“Shit, what’d you do that for? It’s freezing in here.”

He stared in shock at his prick. It was talking. Not like with a mouth…but he could hear it all the same.

“That hand just for show?” Now it sounded miffed.

“Argh!” He yelled, letting go and scrambling back against the headboard.

“You know, dude,” his cock said conversationally, “I go where you go.”

“Why do you sound like you’re from California?” Spike asked. God help him, he was talking to his penis. He’d cracked. Gone nuttier than squirrel shit. Buffy had finally beaten him.

“Eh, you live in one place long enough you tend to pick up the lingo.”

“Right.” Spike pinched his arm, hard, yelping at the pain. Not a dream.

“Can we go back to getting off with Buffy in mind? You’re screwing up my morning routine here.”

“You’re talking,” Spike hissed.

“Always have, though this is the first time you’ve ever been able to hear me.”

He didn’t know what to say about that. “So…um…Buffy?”

His prick sighed longingly. “She’s perfect, isn’t she?”

“Well, yeah.” Spike was incredibly glad no one could see him having a conversation with his dick. At least it seemed to appreciate the Slayer as much as he did. He stared at his erection. “Do you think you could, maybe…not be hard, right now? Blokes don’t just wake up one day and start chatting with their dangly-bits as a matter of course.”

“Because willing away an boner always works so well for you. Just get it over with. At this rate Buffy’s going to be done with her patrol and we’ll miss her.”

His dick had a point. “Can you stay quiet? I’m not sure I can do this with you yammering.”

“I can try.” It didn’t sound too sincere.

“Not sure I can do it anyway.”

“Alright, listen to me: go over to your I’m-a-fan-of-Buffy shrine and grab those panties you stole off her bedroom floor. Get a good whiff and this whole thing won’t take too long.”

It was the truth. Cautiously, Spike slid off the bed and walked to where he had the items he’d, uh, borrowed from Buffy. He took the pair of pilfered pink knickers from their spot of reverence. It left his cock eye level, so to speak, with a drawing of a smiling Buffy.

“I’d love to feel her mouth on me,” he prick said dreamily.

“Hell yeah.” Spike lifted the panties to his face and inhaled. His entire body shook from the sweet scent. “Want to get my mouth on her more. Lick her cream, make her beg to come.”

“Well, that’s you.” His dick sounded huffy. “I’d be smothered against the bed and wouldn’t be able to see a damned thing.”

“Could 69, she could be sucking you and riding my face.”

“That’s more like it.”

“Damn right it is. Now shut up for two minutes.”

For once his prick cooperated as Spike returned to the bed. He collapsed on his back with the panties draped over his face, and grabbed his erection. He wanked hard and fast, images of feasting on Buffy’s tasty girl-bits while she swallowed him whole dancing through his brain.

“Bet she could.”

“Huh?”

“Swallow me whole, like you just said.”

Damn, he hadn’t meant to say anything out loud.

“She’s got so much physical control I’m sure that extends to her gag reflex. That hot, wet mouth, sucking me in, those big green eyes staring at my balls.”

“Yeah,” Spike groaned, the fantasy alive in his mind. “Her sweet cunny grinding against my tongue.” In his imagination fantasy-Buffy was going off like a firecracker.

The was a few seconds of silence while he masturbated furiously. “Buffy!” he howled as he came, the cry echoed by his cock as it jerked in his hand and spurted semen over his fist, stomach, and chest. He lay there, panting. This day was decidedly on the odd side. Though he guessed sharing a sexual fantasy with his cock was better than being at odds with it. What if it’d insisted on waxing lyrical about Drusilla?

For the moment it was being silent. Maybe it only talked when he was hard?

Spike wiped himself off with the sheet and stood up to return Buffy’s knickers to their place of honor. This whole talking-penis thing was more than he could handle on his own. Someone had put a bloody spell on him. It hadn’t started blabbering away for no good reason.

He pulled on a shirt from the floor that didn’t smell too dirty and took a minute to fix his hair. Grabbing his favorite pair of jeans he went to step into them.

“Do we have to?” his cock asked. Drat, so much for the only while erect theory.

“Yes,” he replied tersely.

“Why?” it needled. “I can’t see anything and, really, if you just left them off it’d probably solve most of your problems.”

Spike looked down at his prick. “What are you on about, mate? I can’t see a sodding thing that parading pantless around Sunnydale would fix.”

“For starters, you’d get the girl. One look at me in all my glory and Buffy wouldn’t be thinking about that spineless protozoa she calls a boyfriend anymore,” his penis said smugly.

“I think you have an overinflated sense of self-worth. Buffy isn’t going to swoon at my feet because she sees I have a stiffy for her.”

“You’re wrong. Let her get distracted fighting some poor sod, which you know will get me ready to go, whip off your jeans and voila, instant girlfriend.”  

“That’s a load of bollocks and you know it. And even if it did work it still wouldn’t be her heart.”

His cock sighed. “But it’d be her cunt. And do you seriously believe, after she had me inside her, she wouldn’t love us?” It sounded forlorn.

“Buffy’s complicated,” Spike said. “But I know once she has one go, she’ll be wanting more.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Spike ran a hand over his face. “Now I’m afraid I really do have to put pants on.”

“Oh, fine. Whatever. I’m used to it anyway. Just don’t do up your belt so tight. I’m going to try and have a peek while Buffy’s slaying something.”

“You’ve got a bit, it’s only five.”

“Balls.”

Spike did up his jeans and fastened his belt, but not as tightly as he might have. No point in antagonizing his cock. And it wouldn’t hurt if it got to see the girl. He sure as hell was looking forward to it. Maybe he could get her real brassed off. The kind of angry where her chest heaved, eyes flashed, and cheeks flushed red. If he was really lucky she’d punch him.

“At least you don’t sweat,” his cock grumbled from behind the zipper.

Truthfully, if his prick was still feeling chatty, getting punched by Buffy was nearly guaranteed. Spike perked up.

“How much longer until we see her?” his cock whined.

“We’ll find her on patrol, so the sun has to go down first.”

It sighed dramatically. “That’s forever. Do you want to jerk off again?”

Well, yeah, he kind of did. Usually about this time he’d be going upstairs, downing a cup of blood, and tossing off while imaging Buffy in one of those cute skirts she used to wear a lot of. Only not while his blasted prick was talking to him, plus he was out of blood.

This entire situation was rubbish.

It was tempting to go find Buffy and ask for help. Though she’d be with her mum or her mates right now, maybe even Dawn, and he wanted to approach Buffy one on one first, in case his prick got carried away and started blabbering on about needing to be intimately connected to her nether regions. Spike frowned. God, he hoped Riley wouldn’t be trailing her on patrol tonight. That’d be a fine kettle of fish.

“What are you thinking about so hard up there with your big head?” his penis asked.

“As much as I’ve been enjoying our little tete-a-tete today, it’s bloody unusual you can talk. I think we might need some help. I’m trying to figure out who to ask first.”

“Who’s on the list?”

“Don’t really have one.”

“Don’t try calling Angel.”

Spike shuddered. “Yeah, no worries there, mate. He’s the last bleeding wanker I want to chat with about this.”

“You should be careful who you’re calling wanker.”

Spike growled. “Don’t even start with me.”

“Just saying.”

There was an awkward pause.

“What about the stuffy sounding older bloke Buffy hangs around with?” his prick finally said.

“Giles? Her Watcher?”

“He’s got the kind of background to figure this out. Or you can at least nab a book or two and do the research yourself.”

Spike pursed his lips. “And he’s got blood and booze. Hey, good idea.”

“Of course it is. Now will you reconsider the one about showing me to Buffy?”

“No.”

“Please?”

“Bloody hell! If I flash you at her I will end up so much dust. Got it?”

His cock snorted. “I still think you’re wrong. She just needs to know what she’s missing. Hey,  if you do flash her do you think she’ll show us her tits in return?”

“What?” His dick was delusional.

“Make sure I can see if you think she’s going to do that!” His prick sounded downright jolly. Terrific, it was a boob…penis.

With a snarl, Spike grabbed his duster and stomped towards the entrance to the sewer. The scoobies would fix this. They fixed everything. There was book reading, running around and presto, the problem was solved. They had to. Buffy probably wasn’t going to ever leave her wank…loser of a boyfriend for someone with a talking prick.


	4. Rub-A-Dub

 

Spike turned down a familiar sewer tunnel, his strides long. The faster he got to Giles’, the faster he could take care of this bizarre situation.

Truthfully, he rather admired the fiendishness of whoever had put this curse on him in the first place. He was fairly certain he wouldn’t be solving this little problem without the scoobies, but he was also certain he’d be blowing in the wind if his blabbermouthed dick got anywhere near Buffy. He appreciated a little violence with his sex as much as the next bloke, but when he was only getting one without the other it wasn’t nearly as much fun.

“Are we there yet?” his prick asked for what felt like the millionth time. “Is Buffy around?”

Spike sighed heavily. “No! And stop asking.”

“But you’ll tell me if Buffy shows up, right?”

“So you can get us both dusted? Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Spike drawled insincerely.

“Ungrateful jerk,” his penis muttered.

Spike stopped in his tracks. “Ungrateful?” he repeated incredulously, staring at the front of his jeans.

His cock made a harrumphing noise. “Who’s been the brains of this operation so far, huh? And what thanks do I get? I’m stuck in here without even a chance of peeking down Buffy’s shirt when she bends over.”

Spike considered that for a moment. He really did enjoy watching Buffy bend over. She certainly wasn’t shy about wearing shirts that afforded a nice view of her tits. Sometimes when she got really riled up she’d plant her hands on whatever surface was in front of her—the back of a chair, the wooden table in the magic shop—and lean forward with an intense look on her face while she spoke. It always gave him a nice, straight shot down the front of her shirt and a lovely view of her cleavage. He’d definitely wanked over the sight more than once.

“Sorry, mate,” he said regretfully. “Don’t see how that’s going to happen without you and I ending up swept into a bin.”

His prick let out a forlorn sigh as Spike resumed his trek to Giles’ place. “It just looks so cozy.”

“What does?” Spike frowned up at the manhole, listening for traffic before he poked his head out. It sounded quiet enough, so he shoved the metal disc aside and lifted himself up hastily before covering his head with his duster and making a dash for the nearest spot of shade.

“That place between her boobs,” it replied dreamily. “Do you think she’d let me slide in there?”

Spike’s actual brain went blank and fuzzy for a moment as he pictured Buffy cupping her own breasts with his cock tucked into the valley between them, his hard shaft pillowed by her soft tits. She was looking up at him with those big green eyes, her lips parted like she couldn’t wait to taste him. “Oh, Spike,” she said breathlessly.

A distant car horn jolted him out of his fantasy, but unfortunately it was too late to stop his cock from getting in on the action. It was starting to press uncomfortably against his zipper. “Bugger,” Spike muttered, adjusting himself in his jeans and dashing for the courtyard of Giles’ building. “Can’t you take a rest until we figure this out?”

“Oh sure, blame me,” it said sarcastically. 

Spike rolled his eyes while he hunted for Rupert’s spare key, which he eventually found on top of the apartment door molding. Luckily, the Watcher wasn’t one for creativity. Spike let himself in and shrugged out of his jacket, tossing it carelessly over a nearby chair. “’Lo?” he called out. He was fairly certain he was alone, but the last time he’d thought that his prick had gotten all chatty so he wasn’t taking any chances.

No one answered. Spike’s penis let out a long-suffering sigh. “Is-”

“She’s not here,” Spike growled.

“Oh.” There was a blessed moment of silence. Spike started to hope maybe the damn thing was settling in for a good sulk so he could concentrate on the Watcher’s book collection when it let out another, happier sigh. “Remember when she tied us up here?”

Spike did remember, quite vividly as a matter of fact. While he’d been a bit distracted by his empty stomach at the time, he would have had to be dead—er, actually dead—to not notice the Slayer’s gleaming hair and bare shoulders as she tied him up and organized her fancy holiday dinner. And then later, when Giles had requested she move Spike to the bathroom…

He glared down at his crotch. “Stop that right now, we don’t have time for this.”

“Maybe she could chain us up again,” his dick said wistfully.  

Spike groaned as his cock swelled. He pressed his palm against the front of his jeans, which had become a mite uncomfortable. “That was a bit of alright,” he admitted. He started towards the bathroom, his fingers fumbling to undo his belt and zip. 

“She could totally have her wicked way with us.” His cock sounded thrilled at the prospect, and frankly, Spike wasn’t about to deny he felt the same. He got his zipper down as he stumbled through the bathroom door, his eyes landing on the bathtub, scene of his former imprisonment. He remembered how she’d tormented him, that little bitch, taunted him with the long line of her gorgeous neck. Spike braced himself against the tiled wall next to the tub, his hand wrapping around his cock.

“Oh yeah,” Spike muttered, his eyes slowly sliding closed as he imagined all the things Buffy could have done while she’d had him at her mercy.

In his mind’s eye, he was naked in the tub, his arms chained and stretched overhead so he couldn’t reach for her, and his feet were similarly restrained. She sat on the edge of the tub, her hard nipples visible through the thin fabric of her skimpy top, and leaned forward to give him a great view of her perky tits.

“I have ways to make you talk, Spike,” she purred. “Why don’t you just tell me everything?”

Spike clamped his lips shut and shook his head, though from the way she was eyeing his straining erection he was fairly sure she’d already figured out his weakness. Buffy smiled at him like a cat spotting a wounded bird. She lowered one shoulder and the tiny strap holding her shirt up began to slip down, the fabric sliding easily over her smooth skin.

“Her hand wrapping around me, holding me tight,” his cock muttered faintly.

Spike grunted, his fist tightening around his prick. He pictured Buffy’s shirt sliding down to expose her swaying tits as she jerked him off while he lay helpless in the tub. He released his cock just long enough to spit in his palm before wrapping his hand back around it, his strokes firm and sure. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about those lame commandos,” fantasy-Buffy instructed.

“Never,” Spike gasped out, his thumb rubbing over the head of his dick before circling the base and tightening his grip, his cock throbbing in protest at the interruption.

“Do you want to come?” Buffy smirked at him.

“Oh, fuck,” his prick moaned. “Come on, man.”

Spike ignored it. “Please,” he begged. “I’ll do whatever you want, Buffy.”

“You certainly will.” Imaginary-Buffy smiled wickedly as she adjusted her grip and began to stroke him hard and fast. Spike’s erection jerked in his hand as he neared orgasm. He pictured Buffy’s exposed tits, her sweet nipples just begging to be tasted as she worked him to his climax. If this was his punishment, he could only begin to imagine his reward.

“Buffy!” Spike howled as he came, spurting his release into the tub. He was panting as his fantasy cleared, his cock slowly softening. Spike eyed it cautiously. “Now will you let me get something done?”

“Wake me if Buffy shows up,” it murmured drowsily.

Spike tucked it away and did up his jeans, his whole body still thrumming from the force of his orgasm. He staggered back to the living room and picked out a few promising books before collapsing onto the couch. This whole situation might be bloody strange, but his latest wanks were definitely top-notch.

***

Spike tried to focus on the page in front of him, but his mind kept wandering. He’d been at this now for—he glanced up at the clock—almost twenty minutes. Bugger. He scowled at the book in his lap. Sighing, he tossed it into the growing pile next to him on the couch and picked up another, idly flipping through it.

It was hard to concentrate when everything around him reminded him of the last time he’d been cursed, when Buffy had spent the whole evening with her tongue in his mouth and her pert little ass wiggling all over his crotch. Sure, he might not have been thrilled about all that when the spell had been broken, but his cock hadn’t given a whit about who’d been driving it to distraction. He’d spent the better part of two weeks trying to hide his hard-on every time he’d so much as caught a whiff of her before he’d managed to regain some control of his prick. He should have realized then he was doomed.

When he heard the key turning in the lock, he was almost grateful. 

Giles looked less surprised and more resigned to find a vampire sitting in his living room, Spike noticed in disappointment. His reputation really was shot. “Spike,” Giles said in exasperation. “What do you want?”  

Spike shrugged. “This buggering chip out of my head, of course, but I’d settle for some assistance with another little problem I’m having.”

Giles’ eyebrows lifted. “I’m sorry, are you asking for help?”

Spike opened his mouth.

“Is Buffy here?” his prick asked eagerly, apparently having woken from its little snooze. Spike groaned. “What’s she wearing? Is it low cut? Lower your zipper so I can see.”

“She’s not here,” Spike hissed down at his jeans, which were getting a bit tight across the front. “Shut your trap.”

Giles was staring at him in consternation. “What-” the Watcher sputtered. He closed his eyes for a moment and rubbed one temple. “Please tell me I’m hallucinating, or that there’s simply something very small and annoying in your pocket.”

Spike snorted. “Nothing small about it. Think it might be a curse but I’ve got bloody no clue how to go about fixing it.”

“Hey!” his cock protested, now fully erect and pressing insistently against his zipper. “You definitely need my help, dude, you haven’t been getting anywhere with her.”

Giles cast his eyes to the ceiling. “There isn’t enough scotch in the world,” he mumbled before disappearing into the kitchen.

Spike slumped back into the cushions and tried to find a comfortable position while his prick tested the integrity of the fabric it was trapped behind.

Rupert came back with a bottle of scotch and a tumbler with an inch of amber liquid in the bottom of it. He studiously avoided looking anywhere below Spike’s chin. “What did you do?” Giles said, tossing back the remainder of his drink and immediately pouring another. He didn’t really sound very sympathetic.

“Nothing!” Spike said, offended. He paused. “Recently.”

“Other than punch a witch in the nose?” Giles asked wryly.

“I was helping!”

“You should have shown me to Buffy then,” Spike’s dick interjected. “We could have let her thank us by giving her the ride of her life. She’s been way too tense lately.”

Spike dropped his head onto his hand, grimacing, and Giles choked on his drink. “Oh dear lord,” the Watcher gasped after a moment.

“It was him!” Spike protested, pointing at his crotch.

“I’ve heard that before,” Giles muttered under his breath.

Spike blinked at the Watcher for a moment before shaking his head. “Just tell me where the witches are before this blighter gets me dusted.”   

“They’ll all be at the Bronze tonight to celebrate Tara’s birthday.  And I’d deeply appreciate it if we could never, ever speak of this again.”

“Oh man, I hope Buffy’s wearing something with easy access!” Spike’s cock said cheerfully. 

Giles hastily downed the rest of his second scotch. 


	5. On The Floor

 

Spike wrapped his duster tight around him as he strode through night, trying to look his scariest so no one would bother him. The Bronze was the sort of place where you could barely hear yourself think over the loud music. The loud bass should drown out anything his prick decided it needed to talk about.

“I bet she’s wearing a skirt,” his cock said. “A short one. And no panties.”

“It doesn’t matter if she’s wearing a hazmat suit or is naked as a jaybird, she’s not going to let you anywhere near her,” Spike hissed back.

“Dude, you are such a pessimist. I bet if you dance with her and let her get a good feel of me up against her that you’ll be pushing me right inside that sweet, wet, tight…” it trailed off into a wistful sigh.

“Do you ever think about anything other than having sex with Buffy?” Spike asked tersely.

“Do you?” his prick countered.

There was an awkward silence. Fair cop, that.

At the Bronze he headed around back, catching the door and sneaking in as a drunk couple tumbled out into the alleyway.

His cock, which seemed to have been sulking, realized they weren’t outside anymore. “Are we there? Where’s Buffy? Can you see her? What’s she wearing?”

“Be quiet, you’re going to get me dusted. And I can’t see her yet.” Spike drifted down the hallway and leaned casually against the back wall of the club. Not the busiest he’d seen the place, but there were still plenty of people there. Xander and his bird were cutting a rug together on the dance floor, Dawn was sitting with Tara, and…

Bloody hell.

Her back was to him. It was mostly bare with thin cords that kept the top of her dress in place, her blood-red crushed velvet dress. His eyes followed the line of her spine downwards to where it disappeared. The fabric of the dress was lovingly stretched over the curves of her ass. He swallowed hard and his prick stiffened. Buffy looked like she’d stepped out of one of his wet dreams.

“Okay, now you have to tell me something,” his cock sounded desperate.

Spike glanced around but no one seemed to have heard the voice issuing from his neither regions. “Um, red dress. Kind of clingy. She’s got her hair down and curling at the ends.” He wanted to walk up beside her and put his arm around her or run his hand through those sunny locks. At least her lack-brain boyfriend didn’t seem to be about so he wouldn’t have to watch someone else paw her.

“Let me see!” His prick was urgently pushing against his zipper.

“Just hang on.” Making sure no one was watching, he let his duster fall open and surreptitiously adjusted his dick. Hooking a thumb in a belt loop he pulled the front of his jeans down just enough so that the head of his cock was barely poking above the waistband. Spike looked back up just as Buffy turned sideways and lifted her cup to take a drink. Her dress didn’t do a lot to conceal the side of her breast.

“No bra,” his dick said reverently.

“Guh,” Spike managed. Hell, he could see almost everything. The succulent curve of the underside of her tit was completely visible, only disappearing under fabric right before her nipple. He wanted to rip the dress from her body and shag her senseless where she stood. Buffy must have no idea how much side-boob she was flashing or she wouldn’t be so nonchalant as she stood there chatting with Willow.

“Oh god,” his dick moaned. “Oh god, oh god. Look at that.”

“Yeah.” He felt like he was about to explode. She was a vision.

“Go over there,” his penis whimpered. “Need her. Make her understand. Maybe she’ll give me a blow job if you ask nicely?”

“Right. And maybe I’ll be the next Miss America. You’re sodding out of your mind. She’ll make us  dustbuster fodder. Now shut the hell up!”

“Could you at least go to the bathroom real quick? Take care of…hey!” The last was a muffled yelp as Spike shoved his prick back into his pants, tightened his belt, and pulled his duster firmly around himself. “You didn’t have to be so rough,” his cock sniffed.

“Quit complaining, you like it rough anyway,” Spike muttered.

“Prick.”

Ignoring the demands of his body he edged towards Buffy. She was standing by the dance floor, continuing to sip at her drink even though Willow had moved off to sit with Xander.  Sweeping Buffy into his arms and out under the colored lights was probably not a good idea.  Instead he cleared his throat behind her, loudly, so she’d be able to hear him over the song that was playing.

She whirled around. “Spike! What are you doing here?”

His cock eagerly pressed against the front of his pants and he was sure it exclaimed: “Is that her?” He kept his hands in front of his groin.

Buffy narrowed her eyes. “What’d you say?”

“Nothing! It’s just, pet…um…I’ve got a bit of a problem.”

“What do you want me to do about it?” She studied the nails of one hand.

“Suck me!” his cock begged.

Spike paused, but she must not have heard. “Well,” he said. “Did Willow or Tara cast any magic last night? After I left? Maybe because I punched Tara?”

“Not that I know of? Why? What happened?” Buffy put her hands on her hips and Spike went light headed at the sight.

“Uh…”

“Or fuck! Anything!” His prick sounded like it was on the verge of a meltdown. 

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “What was that? Duck everything?”

“I didn’t say…look, can we focus, I’ve got an issue.”

“Spike, you have lot of issues. Millions of issues. A big one being that you weren’t invited.” She was glaring at him. It was distracting.

“I can’t see! Is she naked yet?” his dick asked.

“I’m not faking it!” Buffy snapped. “I really am not happy that you’re here.” Though she actually looked less sure than a moment ago. Her arms fell loosely to her sides, but then she crossed them and nodded decisively. “Go away.”

“But Slayer, I need help!” It was almost a whine.

“I can recommend a therapist, or a nice short dock for you to take a long walk off of. That’d make me feel better, anyway.”

Spike put his hands up, meaning to plead with her. His duster fell open and he realized his mistake too late. It didn’t help that the song ended at that exact moment.

“That dress would look better crumpled on the floor while I fucked you senseless,” his prick loudly declared.

Bloody hell, he was dust.

Buffy’s eyebrows shot up and her face flushed all kinds of interesting shades of red.

“Is she naked now?” his cock asked hopefully.

“I can’t…” Buffy’s hand cracked loudly against his cheek. The other people in the Bronze were turning to look at them.

“It’s not me!” he said, nearly yelling. “That’s my problem!”

“Not you?” She appeared ready to breath fire. It was a good look on her.

“My…my…prick is talking.” He braced himself for another slap, but Buffy just stood there gaping.

“What?” she asked.

He nervously looked around, but another song had started playing and while the scoobies were shooting them concerned looks, everyone else had returned to ignoring them. Which was good, he didn’t need the entirety of Sunnydale knowing about his condition.

“And it’s talking about me?” Her eyes wandered down to his crotch. Bugger. His hard-on hadn’t gone away and his jeans were doing jack-all to cover it. Her face got even redder.

“Er,” he said. “That is a lovely dress.”

“What’s she doing?” his cock hissed.

“Staring at you,” he whispered back and to his horror he felt his dick swell further.

“Anya!” Buffy barked.

“Huh?” he asked.

“Anya?” His dick sounded annoyed. “I wasn’t planning on a threesome.”

“Would you shut your gob?” Spike said.

Luckily, Buffy didn’t appear to have heard his cock that time.

“Maybe it’s a vengeance wish. She might know. Ask her, but it wasn’t me. I didn’t make any wishes about you or your…your…penis.” Buffy pointed towards where Anya was sitting at a table by herself. “I’ve got to go to the bathroom!” she hastily added and fled.

“Did she want us to go with her? A quickie?” his prick asked.

“No!” He looked down at the front of his pants. “And for the record I wouldn’t want our first time to be a quickie in the sodding loo of the Bronze. Not,” he added. “That there’s ever going to be a first time.” That settled, he hesitantly approached Anya. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She fiddled with her straw.

“I don’t suppose any of your vengeance demon mates have been hanging around lately?”  he asked, staring at the table.

“Not that I know of. What happened?”

Spike sighed. “I woke up this evening and my prick could talk.”

Anya pursed her lips. “I’ve done that one before, not as exciting as you’d think, but as I said: Sunnydale is vengeance-demon free at the moment.” She leaned over a little. “Hi Spike’s penis!”

“You’re not Buffy,” it huffed from behind his duster.

“Sorry,” Spike apologized to Anya.

“That’s interesting.” She was studying him, a shrewd look on her face. 

“I’m just going to leave before this night gets any more terrible,” Spike said, shrugging a shoulder and turning on his heel towards the exit. Too observant, that one.

As he trudged out, Riley was headed in. Spike tried to ignore him, but the soldier deliberately clipped Spike’s shoulder with his own. They glared at each other. At least that was one way to get rid of a stiffy. Spike growled softly at the soldier and strode off. It buggering sucked that he couldn’t just lay the git out with a few good punches.  

“What was that about?” his prick asked.

“Buffy’s little tin soldier.”

“Ummm,” his cock sounded worried.

“Out with it.”

“Do you think she’s going to sleep with him? Tonight?” All the cockiness had left his prick’s voice.

“I don’t know, mate.”

“I hope not,” it said sadly.

“Me too.” 

****

The slow song she was swaying to was about love, or maybe cats. Buffy wasn’t sure. Her head was smushed against Riley’s shoulder, her face tuned to the side so she could breathe. At least this song didn’t require coordination to dance to.

She’d been happy to see Riley when he’d shown up and had kissed him a little more aggressively than she’d meant to.

The whole thing with Spike had just been so weird. Major wacko.

And his dick had  spoken to her! It’d implied it wanted to do the wild thing with her. Okay, not so much with the imply. 

Spike’s boy parts wanted to get with her girl parts.

There was a faint pulse from between her legs. Which totally had to be because she was dancing with her boyfriend and not because…

She hadn’t meant to notice what had been going on in Spike’s jeans, but it’d been speaking to her. That was a totally valid reason to have looked at his crotch. And his erection. There was no denying that one.

There was another, slightly stronger pulse from her pussy, like it was trying to get her attention.

It’d been a rather impressive bulge. Under a blanket it’d probably look like he’d pitched a tent. She cringed. She shouldn’t be thinking about Spike or his penis while dancing with her boyfriend. Especially what they’d look like naked in a bed. Double especially for what Spike would look like naked, in a bed, while sliding his cock into…

Alright. Enough.

It’d probably feel stupidly good.

Argh!

Her pussy pulsed strongly, apparently in agreement.

This was not how the night had been supposed to go. She’d thought she’d have fun with her friends, get all swoony while dancing with her boyfriend and maybe do some horizontal stuff with him later. She hadn’t been planning on spending any part of the night hiding in the girls’ bathroom, trying to figure out why she was flushed and tingly down...there, after talking to Spike. And his penis. Which had nicely  filled out the front…

Her mind was a broken record. She needed some air. 

She pushed back from Riley. Totally no on that front tonight. Riley sweating and grunting overtop of her was not going to help anything.  “I think I better take Dawn home so we can check on my mom. She wasn’t feeling very well when we left,” Buffy said. 

Riley sighed. “Can’t you stay just a little longer? Maybe have another drink?”

“I don’t think so.”  Buffy frowned as Riley’s expression hardened. “Dawn needs rest, it’s a school day tomorrow.”

“Fine. I’ll give you a ride home.”

The short trip would have been uncomfortably silent if Dawn hadn’t blabbed the whole time about school, her friends, what everyone had been wearing, and how happy Tara and Willow had been. At Buffy’s house Riley have her a perfunctory kiss on the cheek before taking off. She had sighed and gone inside to make sure her mother had eaten dinner.

Now both her mother and Dawn were sleeping. Buffy stood in her bedroom, looking down at her dress. Riley hadn’t said a thing about it. Not one thing. Though honestly it wasn’t really the sort of thing he usually appreciated her wearing, but she’d been out of clothes that looked like they belonged at a PTA meeting. Spike had seemed to like it. 

How did you…screw…someone senseless?

Slowly she raised her hands and undid the ties to her dress. She shimmied it off and let the fabric pool around her ankles.   _ That dress would look better crumpled on the floor _ .

Leaving it where it’d fallen she flopped on the bed and pretended she was just going to sleep. When her fingers slid over her slick folds and circled her swollen clit, she pretended she was thinking about her boyfriend. When she came for the third time with Spike’s name on her lips, she pretended she was going to be able to act normal around him tomorrow.


	6. Willies

 

He couldn’t get over the inanity of that berk the Slayer called a boyfriend. How could she be interested in an idiot who obviously couldn’t bring her to orgasm without some higher up around to direct him to his target? The earlier sight of Buffy in that fantasy-inducing dress was overshadowed by the knowledge that Spike definitely wouldn’t be the one helping her out of it.  

The only thing left for him to do was get over her, Spike decided as he strode across town, his jacket wrapped tightly around him. So what if he loved the stupid chit? He’d loved Dru, hadn’t he? And he’d gotten along just fine without her. He’d just…come straight back to the last place they were happy, gotten incredibly drunk and picked up the most annoying blonde he’d ever had the misfortune of sleeping with, found and then lost a magical ring, been neutered by insane military scientists, and fallen in love with his mortal enemy.

Spike paused. Well, alright, so he wasn’t the best at moving on, but what the hell else was he supposed to do, pine after Buffy until hell froze over? He was just torturing himself, imagining what they could have when she’d rather see him blowing in the wind than actually blow him. Spike’s shoulders slumped dejectedly.

“Are we home yet?” Spike’s prick asked. “These pants are starting to chafe.”

“They are not,” Spike growled. “And no, got to make a stop first.”

“At Buffy’s?” His dick sounded entirely too enthusiastic. “Great idea! Do you think she sleeps naked? We should suggest that if she doesn’t, or maybe some really sexy lingerie. Something skimpy. And red.”

Spike wiped a hand over his face. “How many times do I have to tell you? Buffy’s not interested in us, period, full stop.”

“Maybe not you,” it replied smugly. “But she was definitely checking me out earlier.”

Spike paused just outside Willie’s and stared down at his crotch in consternation. “You just don’t give up, do you? Now be quiet, I’ve got to get us some provisions.”

“Uh, you don’t need condoms, dude. Vampire, remember?”

Spike rolled his eyes and didn’t deign to answer, pushing the door of the bar open and sauntering across the sticky floor. It was a slow night from the looks of things, but luckily the jukebox in the corner was playing something at a high volume. Unfortunately, the music was of the ditzy-pop-star-of-the-moment variety. If Spike was in a fighting mood, he’d find whoever had chosen to play such an annoying song and beat some musical sense into them. But he’d rather not advertise his little curse problem and his cock had shown a complete inability to remain silent for more than two seconds.

Willie nodded at Spike from behind the bar and pulled down a shotglass automatically as Spike held up a hand to forestall him. “Can’t stay,” Spike said gruffly. “Need some blood and a bottle or two.”  

“Got some primo stuff in tonight,” Willie said, winking at him. “Almost like drinking straight from the tap, you know what I mean?”

“I’d like to tap Buffy, if you know what I mean,” Spike’s dick piped up. Spike contemplated banging his head on the bar as Willie looked at him in confusion.

“What was that about the Slayer?” the bartender asked. A hint of wariness sparked in his beady eyes.

“Nothing,” Spike assured him. “The blood? I’ll take a couple of pints.”

“We should have stayed with her earlier and shown her what she’s been missing,” his cock complained.

“You’re working with her?” Willie asked in disbelief. “And you told her about the back room?”

“What? No!” Spike protested, but he could already hear chairs behind him scraping across the floor as the other demons scarpered off.

Willie slammed a bottle of cheap whiskey on the bartop next to a container of blood and scowled at Spike. “First she sends in her dim-bulb boyfriend, and now you? What the hell does she have against small town entrepreneurs?” He threw up his hands and stomped off, muttering about the Slayer and her cronies and getting his hearing checked.

Spike reached over the counter and snagged a more expensive bottle of whiskey, tucking it and the one Willie had intended for him to take into his jacket pockets before picking up the container of blood and sauntering out the door without bothering to leave any cash. At least something was going his way tonight.

“Now we’re going to Buffy’s, right?” his prick asked as Spike left the bar. Spike’s semi-good mood immediately evaporated.

“No, we’re not going to Buffy’s! You want to stand outside and listen to her fake an orgasm for that stupid git she’s dating?”

There was no response, and Spike hoped he’d finally gotten it through his cock’s thick…uh, head, that Buffy wasn’t interested in them like that.

“Do you think it’s lonely?” it asked after a moment.

Spike cut through an alley on his way back to Restfield and frowned in confusion. “Is what lonely?”

“Buffy’s vagina,” his dick said solemnly.

“You are out of your sodding gourd.”

“Hey!”

Spike ignored his sulking cock for the rest of the journey, sighing in relief as he made it back to his crypt. He might still be cursed, but one of the Slayer’s hanger’s-on was bound to come up with a cure before long, and in the meantime he could spend a little quality time remembering how Buffy had looked in that dress tonight.

Christ, if he didn’t know any better, he’d think she’d chosen that outfit to tease him on purpose; to see how many of his buttons she could push before he lost his bloody mind. Of course, considering he’d spent most of the day in the company of a talking penis, he was probably teetering on the edge of sanity already.

Spike set the liquor bottles in an advantageous spot by his chair before tossing his jacket over the sarcophagus. He spent a few moments heating up his blood and then plopped down into his chair, taking a deep drink. The liquid was almost the same color as Buffy’s dress, and when Spike closed his eyes he could picture the way the fabric had clung to her body, covering everything but hiding nothing. It was like she’d stepped right out of his fantasies. She certainly knew how to torment a bloke.

He let out a groan at the same time as his swelling cock.

“Is it Buffy?” it asked breathlessly. “Can I see?”

Spike downed the rest of his blood in one go before he stood back up, undoing his belt and lowering his zipper. His cock sprang out eagerly. “Sorry, mate,” Spike said, shucking off his jeans entirely to avoid any more complaints. He poured himself a generous amount of whiskey. “No one here but us. Same as always.”

His erection flagged a little, but then quickly recovered. “Maybe she’ll come visit.”

Spike let out a snort and tossed back half of the liquor in his glass. He settled in his chair and glanced at his bobbing dick. “You’re dreaming. She’s more likely to come by and stake us to get us out of her hair.”

“Man, you are totally pathetic, no wonder she’s not into you.”

“What?” Spike frowned. “I am not!”

“Oh, Buffy,” it mocked in a high-pitched falsetto. “I can only be with you if you love me too!” His cock snorted as Spike choked on his whiskey. “Might as well just change your name to William again.”

“You take that back!”

“Look,” his dick said impatiently. “You’re going about this all wrong.”

Spike paused, eying his prick warily. It was resting against his abdomen, hard as a rock, the head of it a deep shade of red. It wasn’t like he had much else to do, and truthfully it hadn’t steered him wrong today, not really. “Fine, I’m listening.” He poured himself another drink.

“What does Buffy need?”

Spike opened his mouth and then closed it again, frowning. This felt like a trick question. “Uh, nothing?”

“Nothing?” His prick sounded incredulous. “Are you kidding me?”

“She’s perfect!”

“Oh, come on, now you’re just channeling Angel. Your forehead’s not looking any bigger yet, but I’m sure it’s just a matter of time.”

Spike growled at his crotch. “What the hell do you think she needs, then?”

“She’s patrolling every night, her mom’s sick, and her boyfriend wouldn’t know how find her clit even if there was a big neon sign pointing to it.”

Spike furrowed his brow. “Yeah, so?”

His prick sighed. “She’s still a girl, not just the Slayer!”

“I know that! But she’s just…she’s too good for me.” Spike slumped back in his chair. “She’s a goddess, and I’m a monster.”

“So maybe you just need to show her you’re more than that.”

Spike scrunched up his brow in confusion.  “What?” 

“You leave the girl parts to me and work on helping the Slayer,” his cock said confidently. “She’ll be falling into our lap in no time.” It sighed happily. “Naked hopefully. Or maybe in that dress she was wearing tonight.”

Spike finished his whiskey and closed his eyes, his hand sliding down his abdomen to grip his cock. “The dress,” he decided, picturing the way it had clung to her ass.

“God, the way it showed off her boobs,” his prick moaned. “I bet they feel so soft.”

Spike spread his legs a little wider and tightened his grip on his cock. He imagined Buffy turning up at his crypt right about now. She was sad maybe, or angry about her lump of a boyfriend for not satisfying her once again. Yeah, that was good. Buffy, standing in his doorway, the moonlight sliding over her skin like a caress. She’d come because she knew he had what she wanted, what she needed. “She knew that dress would drive us bloody crazy,” Spike muttered. “Knew we wouldn’t be able to resist her when she showed up.” 

He felt his cock twitch in his hand. “Do you think she’d suck me first?” it asked hopefully.

Spike groaned, his head dropping back against the cushion of the chair as he stroked himself and pictured Buffy kneeling between his legs. She was watching him with those deceptively innocent green eyes.

“Oh, Spike,” she said breathlessly. “I can’t stop thinking about you.” Slowly, she reached up and undid the tie holding up the top of her dress. Spike’s grip on his cock tightened even further as the red crushed velvet fell, exposing her gorgeous tits. She leaned in, her warm breath washing over his dick before her lips parted and slowly, slowly, slid over the head of it. Spike’s hand started moving faster as he pictured her sucking him into her hot, wet…

“Fuck,” his cock groaned. “Yeah, her mouth feels so good on me. She’s sucking me in so deep.”

Spike was panting as he fisted his erection and imagined Buffy looking up at him, her mouth full of his cock and her hands sliding up his thighs. He couldn’t hold back any longer, his movements getting more sporadic as his prick began to spasm and he came, her name tumbling from his lips as he spilled his seed on the dusty floor.

There was nothing but silence for a few minutes while they both recovered.

“That was a really great dress,” his prick finally ventured.

Spike reached for his whiskey. “Yeah, it was.”

There was another moment of companionable silence before his dick piped up again. “I’ll tell her that the next time we see her.”

Spike forwent the glass and just picked up the bottle. Christ, he was dust. 


	7. Ready

 

“Bu-u-u-ffy!” Dawn whined, reaching a pitch only very patient dolphins would appreciate.

Buffy wasn’t feeling much like Flipper as she sorted through the laundry in the basement. Her mom hadn’t been well enough lately to keep up with it and Dawn certainly wasn’t going to start sorting out whites from colors. Which left her.

“Wash separately?” Buffy said unbelievingly as she held up a delicate blue blouse. “Just who do you think you are?” She dropped it onto a pile of similarly colored clothes. If it didn’t survive, well, it was a dog-eat-dog world.

Dawn thundered halfway down the basement stairs. “You ate the last blueberry pop tart,” she accused.

“Maybe?” Buffy couldn’t remember.

“You know I like those best.” Dawn crossed her arms and pouted.

Buffy sighed. “Whatever, have a strawberry and I won’t eat any more blueberry ones, okay?” She held up a pair of her jeans and frowned at the dried mud and vampire dust on them. That was not going to come out easily.

“Fine.” Dawn stomped her foot and dramatically flicked her long hair over her shoulder. “By the way your boyfriend’s here.” Spinning on her heel, Dawn clomped her way back to the kitchen.

There was definitely a headache forming behind Buffy’s left temple.

She loaded the washing machine with whites and was pouring bleach into the dispenser when there was the sound of heavy boots on the stairs. Couldn’t he have waited five minutes for whatever it was that he needed?

“Hey, what are you doing down here?” Riley asked.

“Solving world hunger,” she grumbled.

He stood at the bottom of the steps and watched her as the water started filling the tub. “How’d you get stuck with laundry duty?”

“Who else is going to do it?”

He didn’t have an answer for that one.  The tub filled with water, she poured in the detergent, and closed the lid.

Riley walked towards her and for a second Buffy thought he was going to kiss her. Maybe pick her up and seat her on the washing machine. Perhaps the spin cycle could achieve what he couldn’t? She ignored that in her mind’s-eye the body between her legs was lean and cool. It was harder to ignore that her imagination supplied the fact that Sp…ah…her dream lover, had been the one to load the washer and then invite her into the basement for a little fun.

Buffy was almost certain Riley mailed his clothes home to be cleaned. She’d found a box with neatly folded shirts, underwear, and socks one time with a note from his mom about how much the cows on the farm missed him.

Riley stopped right in front of her and his hand landed on her shoulder. “Look, I’ve got something to ask you.”

“Go ahead.”

Using her shoulder, he steered her towards the stairs. “In the kitchen. I can’t think with the racket from that machine.”

Buffy sighed. So much for spin-cycle sex.

In the kitchen, she crossed her arms and leaned against the island. Riley grabbed a pack of chocolate-chip cookies and stuffed two into his mouth. “There’s a thing in L.A. this weekend, a conference on military tech. One of the guys sent me passes. We’d be sharing a hotel room with a couple other people to save on the cost, but I thought it’d still be a nice thing to do together. And you could use a little more high-tech stuff in your slaying.”

“Uhh…”

“We’re leaving Thursday night and get back on Monday morning.”

Buffy couldn’t believe what she was hearing. “I can’t just drop everything and go.”

“Of course you can! It’s just a couple of days. It’ll be a blast, and we don’t have to hang with the guys the entire time. I thought we could have a nice dinner out on Saturday night, just the two of us, and then meet up with everyone later at a club.”

Buffy stared at him. “I can’t go,” she reiterated, images of mystical keys that were most likely sisters, hell-gods, and who knew what else, dancing in front of her eyes. “I have Dawn and my mother to take care of and a hellmouth to guard.”

“It’s just one weekend,” he wheedled, cookie crumbs flying everywhere.

“Bu-u-ffy,” Dawn yelled, barging into the kitchen and slamming a thing of deodorant on the counter in front of her sister. “This isn’t the right kind. You bought the one with a pink label instead of the one with the purple label. Everyone at school is going to think I’m a loser now.”

“Who are you close enough to at school that they can smell your armpits?” Buffy asked, bewildered. The grocery list she’d taken with her to the store and said deodorant for Dawn, it hadn’t said what kind. “At least it’s the right brand?”

“I’m going to lose all my friends!” Dawn said, sounding close to tears.  

“Are you going to go or not?” Riley broke in. “I don’t see why every time I ask that we spend some time together–“

“Enough!” Buffy yelled.

Both Riley and Dawn scrunched up their faces.

“What’s your problem?” Dawn asked, frowning.

That was it. “I need some air. Dawn: sorry, maybe next time we’ll go shopping together and you can get just the right kind. Riley: I’m the Slayer, if I say I can’t leave the hellmouth, I can’t. End of story.”

“I’m sure for one weekend–“ Riley’s argument was cut off as Buffy ran out the back door. Dawn would be fine until their mother made it home from the Gallery around five. The afternoon sunlight was warm as she fell into a comfortable jogging rhythm. After the first mile she was sure Riley wasn’t following her.

As she passed Restfield Cemetery, she hesitated only a second. Spike had obviously been upset last night and Buffy couldn’t just let whatever creature that had cursed him remain at large in Sunnydale. She needed more details if she was going to catch the culprit. Considering the time of day, Spike would probably be fast asleep, but he could wake up for a few minutes to talk to her. Especially since she was doing a good deed and trying to help him.

Pushing the door open to his crypt she wrinkled her nose at the combined smell of stale cigarette smoke and booze that leaked out. The top of his head was visible in his chair. She shut the door and walked around to the front, meaning to jab him in the chest and poke fun at him for making it so easy for her to stake him.

Only, oh god, while he was wearing a black t-shirt, he was naked from the waist down. His long legs were sprawled out and he was slumped in the chair, his head lolling against the side. His cock was curved up onto his belly from a nest of sandy-brown curls. It was thick and…pretty?

She probably shouldn’t be staring. How had she gotten this close to him? Her shirt was too scratchy where it slid over her nipples.

Spike muttered something about tea and his cock twitched. Buffy gasped and jumped back.

Spike’s eyes flew open, he let out a strangled yell, and vaulted over the side of the chair before scrambling behind it.

She was panting, not sure what to do at being caught ogling.

“Uh, Slayer, do you have a stake?” Spike asked after a minute.

“Can you ask her to go out and come back in again?” a second voice, that Buffy recognized as belonging to his…boy parts, piped up. “I wasn’t ready.”

Not ready? That hadn’t been ready? Her brain decided thinking wasn’t a necessity.

“Are your clothes off yet?” the not-Spike voice called. “I’m ready now!”

Spike was frantically making shushing noises. “Slayer, uh, Buffy, if you’re going to kill me, maybe get on with it?”

She managed to un-stick her tongue from the roof of her mouth. “I’m not planning on killing you.”

“Oh, uh, that’s good.” There was a pause. “Can you  hand me my pants, then?”

“What?” Spike’s…penis sounded less than thrilled. She looked around for his jeans. “Dude, I don’t think you understand how this works. I get hard and you put me in the girl.” Buffy forgot what she was doing. “First part of that plan has been achieved, now get cracking on the second.”

“Pants?” Spike called weakly. Ah, that was what she was supposed to be up to. She spotted them on the floor by the television and picked them up.

“I promise you’ll leave with a smile on your face!” Spike’s penis called. Buffy felt her cheeks flush.

“Yeah she will,” Spike muttered. “From making us a pile of dust. Be quiet!”

Buffy wadded up his jeans and tossed them over the back of the chair.

“Thanks,” he said.

“But no thanks!” his penis added.

****

Spike got his jeans on his legs and hauled them up. He stood, since the chair would block Buffy’s view, and pulled them the rest of the way on. Buffy was standing in the middle of the crypt wearing a deer-in-the-headlights look. She had the index finger of one hand pushed between her lips. He had to close his eyes and turn around.

His erection fought him as he tried to shove it into his jeans and get his fly done up. “Will you bloody well quit?” he growled.

“You’re screwing this up,” his cock hissed. “Walk out there and tell her you need help getting your trousers fastened. She’ll be on her knees in a second.”

“Not how this works.” Spike finally managed to get zipped up, though it was uncomfortable with his prick straining against the fabric. He strode past Buffy and grabbed his duster, swirling it around himself to hide his hard-on. Pulling open the fridge door he reached for the second bag of blood he’d gotten from Willie’s.

“Offer her a soda,” his dick whispered.

That was a good idea. “You want a drink, pet?”

“Sure,” Buffy said. Spike grabbed a can of diet Pepsi and handed it to her. “Thanks,” she said with a smile. His heart did a little twist.

“Not a lot of seating, feel free to take the chair.” He grabbed the blood and dumped it into a mug, putting it into the microwave to warm. Buffy did, but instead of relaxing she put her elbows on her knees and dropped her head into hands.

“What’s she doing? Wouldn’t it be better if we were in the chair first?” His prick said.

“She’s looking upset, mate, don’t think she’s ready for a bit of slap and tickle at the moment.”

His erection flagged. “Sad? She’s sad? Go cheer her up.”

The microwave dinged and he pulled the blood out. He sat cross-legged on the floor, eyeing the obviously melancholy Slayer. “Why’d you come for a visit, luv? I’d let you know if I’d heard anything about this Glory character.”

She sniffed.

“Don’t cry!” his dick said in alarm.

“I wasn’t planning on it.” She sniffed again.

Spike paused with the mug halfway to his lips. “You can tell me what’s wrong.”

She looked up at him, her eyes bright with unshed tears. “It’s just…Mom’s sick, and I have to pick up the slack but it feels like I’m doing everything wrong and Dawn’s mad all the time and there’s a hell god coming after me and…and my stupid boyfriend thinks I should just drop everything and go away for the weekend with him!”

Spike sighed in unison with his cock.

“And now someone’s running around Sunnydale handing out curses. Or a curse, anyway.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “It’s not going to spread, is it? Your feet or elbows aren’t going to start hitting on me, are they?”

“I hope not?”

Her eyes dropped to the vicinity of his groin. “Does it do that to all the girls?”  

“Excuse me!” His dick said. “I’m right here. And no, there’s only one woman I’m interested in, thank you very much.”

“Ah,” Buffy managed.

Spike needed to go back to what she said. “Slayer, I’m sorry you’re having to go through all this.” He took a deep breath. His prick was never going to let him live this down. “If you want, go with…with your fellow for the weekend. You could use the break. I can handle patrol and can even check on mum and sis.”

“You’d do that?” Buffy sounded confused.

“Yeah.” Spike stared at the scuffed toes of his boots, no longer able to look at her.

“Why?”

“Because he likes you,” his prick sing-songed. Spike put a hand over his face and massaged his temples.

“Oh.” There was silence. He didn’t dare glance up. “That’s very nice of you, Spike. I still don’t think…it doesn’t really sound much like fun anyway. More like Riley wants to hang with his buddies and show off his California girlfriend. We wouldn’t even have a hotel room to ourselves.”

“That’s it, stay away from him, he’s gone mad,” Spike’s cock said solemnly. “If I had you for a weekend to myself you wouldn’t be able to walk right for days.” It let out a dreamy sigh.

Spike rubbed at his temples harder.  

“That’s a myth,” Buffy laughed. “Plus I’m the Slayer, quick healing.”

“Oh baby,” his prick purred. “You have no idea. I can stay hard for hours, make you scream ‘til you’re hoarse, reach all those places–“

Spike grabbed his crotch to cut it off. “Sorry,” he offered. There was a muffled oath from his cock. 

Buffy was an interesting shade of neon red. “Ah…so…I don’t think I’m going to go with him. But, um, I could maybe use some help? You could….meet me tonight, for patrol, and, ah, help?”

Spike felt like he’d just been catapulted into the stratosphere. She wanted him to help her! “Yes of course, what time?”

“Meet me at the gates to Restfield at 7?”

“I’ll be there.”

“Thanks,” she said and rose. “And um, thanks for the drink.” She awkwardly handed him the empty can and left.

“Did she…is this a date?” his cock asked.

“I don’t know.” Spike was still drifting in orbit. He looked down at his groin. “You better be on your best behavior.

“Scouts honor,” it said. “Now can you please take these pants off and we can have a good wank over imagining her coming in here and straddling us in the chair with no clothes on?”

Spike shrugged. “Sure.”


	8. The Magician

 

Spike ran his hands over his hair to make sure it was still slicked back perfectly, and for the thousandth time in the last ten minutes, really wished he had a reflection he could check.

He’d put on, taken off, then put back on his favorite red button up shirt a dozen times already, all while his cock rattled on about bending Buffy over every damn surface in the cemetery and showing her a good time. He currently had the shirt on, and frowned down at it contemplatively before he decided he’d better just leave it alone or he’d be late to meet her.

Spike picked up his jeans and his dick groaned. “Come on man, do we have to?”

“I sincerely doubt the Slayer would appreciate you flopping about while we’re fighting demons.”

“I do not flop!” it huffed. “I, uh, swing. Majestically.” 

Spike yanked up his trousers and glared at his unruly prick. It had taken two rounds of wanking over the thought of Buffy straddling them in the chair and riding them until she popped to get the damn thing to settle down. “Well I’m not tromping bare-arsed through the damn graveyard, so in you get.” He did up the zipper and buckled his belt, pausing to loosen it one notch as an afterthought.

“Gee, thanks,” his dick said sarcastically. “You’re a pal.”

Spike ignored it and grabbed his duster. God knew he’d be making use of it tonight. One glimpse of Buffy fighting was always enough to make him pop a stiffy, and he was going to be spending an entire evening watching her do violence. He wasn’t going to be able to get his blasted cock to calm down for a week, though hopefully it would have stopped its incessant chattering by then. 

He made his way upstairs, checking his hair once last time. He couldn’t believe he was about to go meet the Slayer. She’d invited him to patrol with her! Maybe it really was a date. Spike smoothed a hand over his duster’s lapels and opened the crypt door.

“Do these pants make me look scrawny?” his cock asked anxiously. “Maybe you should put on some tighter ones.”

“We’re going to be killing things, not putting on a peep show,” Spike hissed down at his crotch as he headed for the gates of Restfield.

“But we’ll do that after, right?”

Spike spotted Buffy before she saw him, her golden hair a beacon in the darkness. She was perched on a tombstone and tossing a stake into the air, flipping it end over end before catching it and repeating the motion. He couldn’t stop the smile that blossomed across his face. She was early.

“Just keep quiet,” Spike muttered. His dick let out a huffy sigh but didn’t say anything further. Spike took that as agreement. “Slayer,” he said a bit louder as he sauntered up behind her.

She missed catching the stake she was tossing, fumbling with it for a second before it dropped to the ground and she whirled around, her face red. “Spike!” Her eyes trailed down his torso before snapping back up to his face, her blush deepening. “Um, hey.”

Spike lifted one eyebrow. Well, that was interesting. If he didn’t know any better, he’d almost think…but that was insanity, Buffy wouldn’t be checking him out. She preferred her men tall, dark and dull. More than likely she was just still embarrassed about catching him sans pants earlier.

“So…” he trailed off, wracking his brain for something to say.

“Patrol?” Buffy blurted. She hastily bent over to grab her stake, her short jacket riding up so he got a spectacular view of her ass in the tight jeans she was wearing. His cock started to stiffen.

“What’s she doing?” his prick whispered eagerly. “Is she taking off her shirt?”

“No!” Spike muttered back, pulling his jacket around him a little tighter.

“What?” Buffy straightened back up and the stake disappeared, hidden away somewhere on her person. Spike had definitely wanked more than once over the thought of searching her for them, slowly undressing her, his hands sliding over her curves and…

Spike cleared his throat awkwardly. “Uh, how’s your mum?”

Buffy’s shoulders sagged a little, but her face was more or less its normal color again. “She’s doing ok. She’s just been really tired.” She fell into step beside him as they started walking towards the back of the cemetery, where the most recent burials were. He watched her out of the corner of his eye, noticing she looked less than well-rested herself.

“You sure there’s nothing else I can help with?”

She stopped abruptly and turned to face him. She didn’t seem angry, which was a bit different than normal. “I…” she trailed off, her gaze steady on his face. He resisted the urge to reach up and make sure his hair was still in place. “I’ll let you know if I think of anything,” she finally finished.

Spike couldn’t help but smile at that. If he’d had a working heart, it would have skipped a beat at the way she smiled back.

“I have some ideas!” Spike’s prick piped up. They both ignored it. “Guys?”

***

This night was beyond weird, Buffy decided as she staked a fledge stupid enough to turn his back on her when Spike drew its attention. Not only had Spike turned out to be helpful on patrol, he’d also been kind of…sweet about everything else. She wrinkled her nose and concentrated on brushing the dust off her jeans while she tried to get a hold of herself. It was one thing to fantasize about him...uh, her random vampire lover, doing dirty things to her so she could get some solo satisfaction, but she certainly couldn’t entertain the idea for real.

And how ridiculous was it that an evil vampire—well, formerly evil—was somehow more thoughtful than her actual boyfriend? Buffy frowned, glancing up through her eyelashes as Spike waited for her, his hands shoved in the pockets of his duster and holding it closed in front of him. She’d definitely caught a few glimpses of the not-so-little problem he had in his pants while they’d been sweeping the cemeteries, and jeez, it hadn’t been kidding about being able to keep itself up for hours. Buffy’s pussy throbbed. She was going to have to spend some quality time alone in her bedroom tonight.

“So,” Buffy said, finally straightening up. “Maybe call it a night?” Spike’s face fell,  but probably because he was disappointed about all the demon butt-kicking coming to an end, not for any other reason. At all.

“Sure.” He shrugged.

“Thanks for your help,” Buffy added awkwardly. God, this would be way easier if he wasn’t being so oddly nice. Then she could just yell at him and maybe punch him. She hadn’t had an excuse to touch him all night. Not that she wanted to! “Maybe I could get the gang to help with your, you know-” She gestured vaguely at his lower half. “Tomorrow afternoon?”

“You’d really help?” Spike looked surprised. “I mean, sure, couldn’t hurt.”

“Great,” Buffy replied, feeling oddly pleased that he’d accepted.

“Is it my turn?” a little voice piped up hopefully. “Can I come out now?” Buffy’s eyes snapped down to the vicinity of Spike’s belt buckle, her heart beating faster at the memory of seeing exactly what he was hiding. She wondered what it would have looked like if it had been ‘ready’. Her face got hot.

Spike scowled down at his groin. “No,” he growled.

“Don’t be such a cock-block,” Spike’s penis sniffed. “Hey baby, wanna come back to our place? We should help you out of those clothes before you catch fire.”

“What?” Buffy squeaked out. Images of herself naked in Spike’s crypt, with Spike sprawled half-naked in his chair like he’d been earlier, danced through her brain. Her face felt like it might actually be on fire, which was ridiculous. She glanced down at herself just to check. “No one’s on fire here.”

“You’re so hot, it’s only a matter of time,” it declared.

Buffy stifled the urge to giggle hysterically as Spike dropped his head onto his hand and groaned. She couldn’t help but be a teensy bit flattered that his penis apparently had a thing for her and wasn’t shy about letting her know. She couldn’t remember the last time Riley had complimented her without prompting.

“Want to see a magic trick?” it asked enthusiastically.

“I should really get home,” Buffy said weakly, peeking up at Spike’s face. He looked mortified. It was kind of cute. Except she probably wasn’t supposed to be thinking anyone was cute except for her boyfriend.

“It’s a good one,” Spike’s penis coaxed. “Dude, seriously, take off your pants so I can see her,” she heard it hiss in a quieter voice. “You’re cramping my style!”

Spike started to back away. “Uh, well, good patrol Slayer, go on home to your mum and sis.”

“I can disappear!” it called.

“What?” Buffy said in alarm at the same time as Spike. She would swear on a stack of Giles’ stuffy old books that she was not horrified at the thought, simply curious about possible curse side-effects. The vampire had opened his jacket and was staring down at the front of his pants. Buffy couldn’t help but stare too. Boy, did that look uncomfortable, not that she cared!

“Just take off your pants and bend over, baby,” Spike’s penis said smugly. “You won’t see me for days.”

Buffy crossed her arms over her chest, hopefully hiding her suddenly stiff nipples. “That’s…look,” Buffy said, feeling a little lightheaded. “I have a boyfriend.”

“Er, Slayer,” Spike started to say.

Spike’s penis snorted. “That Neanderthal? Like he knows how to please a woman.” Spike lifted his eyes heavenward and sighed loudly. “When was the last time he made you see stars?”

“Hey!” Buffy put her hands on her hips and glared at the substantial bulge in Spike’s pants. “He…he does just fine. Besides, a relationship is more than just…what you do.”

“But I do it really, really well,” it  purred. “You’d be screaming down the rafters.”

Buffy’s mouth dropped open as she squeezed her thighs tightly together. Her pussy, that traitor, was apparently really into that idea. “I would not!” she managed.

“Um,” Spike began again.

“Want to try?” Spike’s penis asked eagerly.

“I…I have to go.” Buffy turned on her heel and practically ran for the cemetery entrance.

“Wait, Buffy!” she heard one of them call after her, but she didn’t slow down. It was late. She needed to get home. She had to check on her mom and Dawn and probably deal with a pissed off boyfriend that she’d been avoiding all afternoon. And evening. That slowed her down a little. She really hoped Riley wasn’t going to keep nagging her about going away this weekend. For all the times he swore up and down that he totally understood her calling, he sure was terrible at putting that understanding into practice.

The muscles in Buffy’s shoulders got tighter the closer she got to her house, and when she turned onto her block and saw a big, Riley-shaped shadow sitting on the front porch steps she could feel her whole body tense up. The upstairs lights were all off, so at least it looked like she wouldn’t have to try and placate Dawn again tonight.

“Riley,” Buffy said as she came to a halt in front of him. “What are you doing here?”

Riley frowned at her and stood up, looming above her. “Waiting for my girlfriend.” Buffy winced at his tone. He sounded super cranky. “Who ran off earlier in the middle of a discussion we were having.”

“The discussion was over, Riley. I can’t leave the hellmouth, end of story.”

“You didn’t even bother to think about it!” Riley accused. “There are two people in this relationship, you know, not that you seem to remember that very often.”

Buffy took a step back and tried to stay calm. She hoped Riley’s yelling wasn’t going to wake up her mother. “What do you mean?”

“I mean you never prioritize us! I shouldn’t have to schedule a weekend away just to see you.”

Buffy inhaled and tried to count to ten. She got to five, which was probably a personal best. “Okay, first of all, staying with your buddies in a seedy motel room and looking at high tech military gadgets is not my idea of a romantic weekend getaway,” she hissed, her hands on her hips. “Plus we still don’t know anything about this Glory character, and have you forgotten that my mother is sick? I can’t just leave Sunnydale at the drop of a hat because you’re feeling neglected!”

“Do you even want to be with me?” Riley’s voice was loud in the still night air, but the upstairs windows remained dark. 

Buffy thought longingly of her evening spent in the graveyard dusting fledges with Spike. It had been the most relaxed she’d felt in weeks. “Can we not talk about this right now?” Buffy asked wearily.

Riley threw up his hands. “I can’t do this anymore, Buffy. I just…I’ve got to go.” He stormed off  before she’d fully processed what he’d said.

“Wait, what…?”  But when Buffy turned he was already gone. She stood there for a minute in the darkness, trying to figure out if she still had a boyfriend or not, before giving up and heading inside. She could worry about that tomorrow. Or next week. She had plenty to keep her occupied in the meantime. 

She let herself into the house, carefully locking the door behind her, and headed upstairs to change into her pajamas and climb in bed. Where she was most certainly not going to imagine Spike’s cold hands bending her over a gravestone and sliding down between her legs while he whispered sweetly dirty things in her ear and made her see stars. 


	9. Pink with Bows

 

He wasn’t speaking to his prick at the moment. Not since it’d told him that it didn’t care if Buffy put a bag over his head and taped a picture of Angel to the outside so long as she was screwing them. Spike rubbed his face, hoping he didn’t look nearly as tired as he felt. Sleep had been sporadic at best and now he was up in the middle of the day and walking through the sewers to go have some quality time with the scoobies. This should be fun.

“Come on, dude,” his cock said. “I’m sorry. I really don’t think she’d do that.”

Spike sighed.

“I want her to care about us too,” it added.

“Whatever,” Spike muttered. His dick just didn’t understand. Having some meaningless screw with Buffy wasn’t going to cut it. He loved her. He knew she most likely would never feel the same about him. What hope did he have? She was the shining beacon of all that was right and good and he was a monster forced to scurry through shadows. But even so…he wanted her to trust him, maybe even to respect him as more than just a creature of darkness. He needed her to believe he was capable of caring about her. He pinched the bridge of his nose as feelings threatened to overwhelm him. A connection, a real one, with her would mean everything to him, even if it wasn’t love on her part.

He could be good for her. He could help her carry her burdens. She always seemed so alone and if she would just let him he could fix that–

“From the lack of general blood flow down here I know you’re thinking too hard,” his prick said loudly, interrupting his sulk.

“Not all of us have a one-track mind,” he retorted.

“Because you weren’t thinking about Buffy?”

Bloody hell.

“Man, stop worrying so much. The girl already likes you, now you just need to properly introduce her to me.”

Spike halted and stared down at his crotch. “L-l-like me?” he stammered.

“Seriously? Did you not notice how she laughed every time you made some dumb joke? And do you honestly believe that the Slayer was frightened enough by a few shadows that she asked you to stay closer to you that one time last night?”

Spike furrowed his brow. “You really think so?” He hated how pathetic he sounded.

“Yeah,” his cock answered. “And she wanted to see us again today. She could have set this up for whenever, but she didn’t want to wait.”

That was entirely true. Something kindled deep in his belly. Buffy wanted to spend time with him.

“You’re going to have to…have to…” his penis sounded choked up. The blasted thing couldn’t cry, could it? “I’m going to be busy, so you’ll have to tell me what her tits look like as they jiggle while we’re fucking her.” It let out something that sounded suspiciously like a sob.

Spike rolled his eyes heavenward. “You’re counting chickens before they hatch, mate, but I swear if I ever find out I’ll make sure you get a full description.”

“Thanks. You’re a real pal, you know?”

“Right.” This was getting awkward. Pulling out a smoke he lit it and continued towards the Magic Box. He did his best to think about nothing, though his prick was muttering to itself on and off something about Buffy and her panties.

At the exit for the store he stomped out his cigarette butt and carefully lifted the edge of the manhole cover. The coast was clear, so he made the dash to the back of the shop and walked into the training room. Buffy, wearing a pair of jeans and one of those tank tops that barely made an attempt to cover her boobs, was standing there with her arms crossed, apparently waiting on him.

“ ‘Lo, pet,” he said, running a hand over his hair and making sure his red button down was hanging evenly.

“Hi, Spike,” she said with a little smile that was like the sun bursting through the clouds. Her eyes ran down his torso for a second before snapping back to his face. He hooked a thumb in his belt loop and raised an eyebrow at her. Her eyes darted down and back up again as pink stained her cheeks. That was neat.

“Buffy?” his prick asked eagerly.

“Er, hi to you too,” she squeaked. It was adorable.

“I was wondering,” his cock said thoughtfully. “If you have any crotchless panties? Maybe in pink, with bows.”

Spike cringed and desperately tried to not imagine Buffy in pink crotchless panties with bows. He especially tried not to picture her wearing them while she had her legs spread wide as he plowed into her tight, wet pussy, making her breasts bounce…

God damn it, his prick had put ideas in his head. He needed to adjust his rapidly growing erection as it was pushing uncomfortably against his zipper, but Buffy was staring at his crotch with a confused look on her face.

“Well, no. They’re not very practical.”

“Not practical?” his cock gasped. “You’re kidding me. If a gust of wind comes along and blows your skirt up you’re covered, but if the mood hits you there’s nothing to take off before you’re slammed up against the nearest wall and I’m making you squeal.”

“She’s wearing jeans,” Spike growled.

“That’s a disappointment. If you’d just let me out to see we wouldn’t have that kind of confusion,” his prick sniffed.

Speaking of jeans, if Buffy had been wearing a skirt or dress he would have missed it, but since she had her legs in tight denim the move had been visible. When his idiot cock had mentioned slamming her up against a wall, she’d squeezed her thighs together. Twice. Oh god. It was all he could do not to experiment by tossing her against the nearest wall and rubbing his aching hard-on against her lovely round behind. Giving up on propriety he grabbed his dick and moved it so the teeth of his zipper weren’t biting into it. Buffy’s wide eyes followed his every move.

“Oh, thank god,” his cock sighed in relief.

“Uh, so, everyone’s waiting,” Buffy finally said, sounding a little breathless. “We’ve got lots of books about, um, curses and stuff. And Dawn’s not here, she went to Janice’s after school.”

That was a blessing. “Lead on,” he said, watching her rear as she turned and scurried towards the front of the store.

This was the best day ever.

****

Could things get any worse?

Buffy wondered if Giles would let her turn the air conditioning on higher. She felt like she was about to melt. Which, no…not supposed to…for a second there she’d thought Spike might actually push her against the wall of the training room. He’d run those long fingers of his over her hips and undo the front of her pants, pushing them down around her knees. His hand would be cool as he touched her hot skin, parting the lips of her sex in order to slip a finger deep inside her. He’d make such appreciative noises when he found her wet and ready. His belt would jingle as he undid it and she’d lean forward, making it easier for him to slide the thick head of his–

“Buffy?” Xander asked.

She yelped. Everyone was staring at her. She glanced back at Spike, who had his duster wrapped around himself. He was looking at her with a raised eyebrow and a knowing little grin. Crap, surely the curse didn’t let him read her mind? She reassured herself that of course it didn’t, otherwise he would have already thrown her over his shoulder and carted her off to his crypt so that he could…she shook her head. Focus.

She cleared her throat and surveyed the room. “Okay, so, um, you all know Spike was cursed. Anya says it’s not a vengeance wish, so we’re at square one here. We don’t know who and we don’t know why. We’re going to try and figure both those things out so we can help him with his, uh, problem.”  Quickly she walked to the table, sat down, and grabbed a book. Giles, Xander, Tara and Willow picked out their own tomes.

Spike leaned against the counter where Anya was manning the register. Buffy watched him out of the corner of her eye.

“No stealing while you’re here,” Anya admonished.

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” Spike said.

“Sure, and that’s why I’m constantly having to order more burba weed.”

Spike shrugged.

Anya leaned forward. “Hi, Spike’s penis.”

Buffy abruptly found her fantasies taking a different turn as she saw herself smashing her fist into Anya’s face.

“You,” Spike’s boy-parts said, sounding disdainful. “Are still not Buffy.”

Buffy had the vague notion she shouldn’t feel so pleased.

“I’m just being polite,” Anya said.

“Oh, uh, thanks. Hi to you too, then.” There was a pause. “So…do you know where Buffy could buy a pair of crotchless panties? She doesn’t have any.”

Everyone sitting at the table froze.

“Oh sure,” Anya replied airily. “It’s cheaper if you buy them from a catalogue, but there’s a place here in Sunnydale that sells stuff like that. They’ve got quite a good selection.”

Spike looked like he was wishing a hole would open up under his feet.

“Pink?” his cock eagerly asked. “With bows?”

Giles stood up from where he was sitting beside Buffy. “I seem to have forgotten something quite important in my office.” He beelined to the door and slammed it closed behind him.

“Shoo, go sit down,” Anya said to Spike. “It’s your curse, you should be helping out.”

“Right.” Not looking at Buffy, he sat in the chair Giles had vacated and picked up a book. He seemed to take up a lot more room than her Watcher had. Under the table, she was entirely too aware of how close her knee was to his thigh. If she moved less than an inch she’d be touching him. Struggling to keep still, she glanced back down at the book she was supposed to be researching in, though she had yet to read a single word of it.

There were a few minutes of silence.

“This is boring,” Spike’s penis said from under the table. “Couldn’t you at least put on some music?”

“Right?” Xander nodded. “I’ve been telling them that for ages.”

“Just some light contemporary, even though it’s a magic store it doesn’t have to be Enya or chanting monks.”

“I was thinking just one of the local radio stations. We’d get updates on the news and weather that way too.”

“That’d be perfect.”

“See?” Xander said louder. “It’s not just me. Spike’s…” he trailed off and coughed. “Uh, I’m not the only one that thinks having a radio on when we’re researching would be a good thing.”

“Especially if we’re going to be stuck here forever,” Spike’s cock added.

Willow sighed. “It really might take a while since we don’t have any idea where to start. Pizza or Chinese for dinner?”

“Chinese, something spicy,” Spike said, keeping his eyes on the book he was reading.

“Wouldn’t pizza be better?” his penis asked.

Willow’s brow wrinkled. “Why do you have an opinion?”

“You can eat pizza one handed and keep reading. The quicker everyone gets done looking through these books the sooner we can all get out of here. I’d appreciate that because it’s unlike I’m going to get jerked off in public.”

Spike dropped his head into his hands. Buffy patted his shoulder.

“I second the pizza vote,” Xander said as everyone tacitly agreed to ignore the masturbation comment. “I have to work tomorrow and don’t want to spend my entire night researching curses.”

Buffy pursed her lips. “Chinese, with extra egg rolls.”

“I think fried rice with tofu sounds good,” Tara said.

“I second that,” Anya added from behind the counter.

“Ugh,” Xander sighed. “It looks like we’ve been outvoted.”

“At least we tried,” Spike’s penis said. “Should have known the women would stick together.”

“Hey,” Spike barked.

“My statement stands,” he dick said.

Xander chuckled, trailing off as Spike glared at him. Silence descended again.

It was maybe fifteen minutes later that Buffy realized Spike was having a hushed argument with his penis.

“I’m uncomfortable,” his penis hissed. Buffy glanced around, but it looked like no one else could hear.

“You’re fine,” Spike whispered.

“You’re not the one stuck in these stupid pants. I’m under the table, the least you could do is unzip your fly so I can get a look at her.”

“No,” Spike shot back.

“And what if Buffy suddenly decides she needs to give me a hand -job? Wouldn’t it be better to be prepared?”

“I think you’re bloody well safe from that, mate.”

Buffy absolutely did not think about running her hand over the rough denim of his jeans and wrapping her fingers around the rock-hard shaft of his cock. She’d start slow, gently swiping her fist up and down before tightening her grip and–

“Spike?” Tara said and Buffy jumped in her seat.

“Yeah, pet,” he sounded bored.

“Do you have any clues? Anything that might help us narrow this down?” Tara was looking at her book instead of at Spike.

“Not a sodding thing. I went to sleep perfectly fine one morning and woke up to a talking prick.”

“Okay, what about, your, um…privates?” Tara flushed a deep red.

“I’m right here,” his dick said. “You can just ask me.”

“I don’t really…deal with men’s parts a lot.” Tara was nearly glowing she was blushing so hard.

“No worries,” Spike’s penis said. “Unlike some, I don’t bite.”

Spike winced.

“I guess you wouldn’t?” Tara bit her lip. “Uh, anyway, Spike’s, ah…”

“Penis,” it supplied.

“Do you know anything at all about why you can talk now? Do you remember anything?”

“I’m glad you asked,” it said. Everybody leaned forward. “But no, I don’t remember a damned thing. The blanket was over me the whole day anyway, so even if I was awake, I wouldn’t have seen anything.”

Everyone sighed and went back to their reading.

The bell over the door rang. Buffy looked up and frowned. It was Riley. She thumped her book closed and pushed her chair back.

“What’s going on?” Spike’s dick asked.

“Buffy’s boyfriend just showed up,” Spike said.

“Fantastic,” his penis retorted, sounding less than pleased. “I wondered why it suddenly got more boring in here. Maybe Buffy can fake an orgasm and he’ll leave like he normally does.”

Buffy’s jaw dropped open. Spike could absolutely not know she was faking it when she…hey! When had he heard her having sex?

“What’s going on?” Riley asked, looking at the gathered scoobies. His gaze darkened as it landed on Spike. “And what’s he doing here?”

“We are simply doing a little research,” Giles said from the direction of his office. He must have heard the bell and come out. There was a glass of amber liquid in his hand. 

Buffy stood up. “Yup, just a scoobie research session,” she said in her best nothing-to-see-here voice. She didn’t even know if they were still technically together—after last night it wasn’t clear—and it didn’t seem like it was up to her to spill the beans to him about Spike’s curse. As she walked by Spike he put a hand out for a second like he was going to stop her, but then he let it fall with a resigned look.

“If there’s a problem I should have been notified,” Riley said, crossing his arms. He was wearing a long-sleeved shirt that seemed too thick for the warm weather they’d been having lately.

“Something just popped up,” she said. There was a smothered laugh from Xander’s direction and Buffy rubbed her forehead and sighed. Usually she was all about the intentional puns. She must be more muddled than she thought if she was doing unintentional ones. “Shouldn’t you be headed to L.A. by now?”

“I should be, but I wanted to give you another chance to come along. If we hurry, we won’t be too late.”

Buffy couldn’t believe him. “I said I can’t go.”

“But you can. These guys can cover for you. Come on, I already told your mom you were going.”

“You what?” she said, confused. He’d talked to her mom? 

“Hey, I just want to make sure you take more breaks. You’re too stressed. You really don’t smile often enough.”

“Excuse me?” Buffy blinked.

Xander came to stand next to her, hands in his pockets. “Eh, I don’t smile a lot over dusty old books either. Sneeze, yes, smile, no.”

Buffy looked at him gratefully. Xander was usually team Riley, but apparently even he could see she wasn’t thrilled with Riley acting like a spoiled two-year-old. 

“Geez, there’s no need to get so upset about this,” Riley said with an exasperated sigh. 

“I’m upset?” Buffy asked, trying to decide if now she was actually mad or not, or maybe just really miffed. Spike casually strolled up beside her. Her eyes widened. That wasn’t good.

Spike tilted his head to one side. “I do believe she doesn’t want to go,” he said slowly in a tone usually reserved for small children you were trying to be patient with.  

“What do you know, fangless?” Riley clenched his hands into fists. “Buffy has been way too tense lately. She needs a break from dealing with neutered wonders like you.”

“Tense?” Spike’s dick piped up. “If she’s tense whose fault is that? And I’d watch who you’re calling neutered, since you couldn’t get her off if someone was standing there and giving you directions.”

“What the fuck?” Riley was staring at Spike’s crotch, looking close to panic.

“I got cursed,” Spike said with a sigh. 

“It’s talking?” Riley sputtered.

“A lot,” Xander said with an amused grin.

Riley made a distressed noise and took a step back before turning his gaze on Buffy. “That what you’re researching? You rather stay here and spend time with a...a...vampire and his talking penis than go with your boyfriend on a weekend trip?”

“If you want you could stay and help,” Buffy said sweetly. Riley looked like he might choke on his own tongue.

Spike’s dick snorted. “Like he’d be any use, unless we needed someone to sit around and make caveman noises.”

“Gah,” Riley managed. Buffy felt disappointed as she watched Riley flounder. She almost wanted him to throw his shoulders back, declare that of course he’d help the scoobies, and tell Spike to shut up and to go hide in the shadows until they found an answer to his problem. 

Spike tsked. “Cat’s got his tongue.”

“Oh please,” Spike’s penis said. “Like Captain Cardboard has had his tongue anywhere near a pussy.” Buffy barely kept herself from nodding in agreement, because, hey, it had been a long time. 

Riley turned an alarming shade of purple. “Are you going to let him talk like this to your boyfriend?” he said to her, is voice high pitched.

“Are you my boyfriend?” Buffy asked.

“This is impossible. I’m out.” Riley did an about face and left in a huff.

“Is he gone?” Spike’s dick asked.

“Yeah,” Spike muttered.

“Good riddance,” Spike’s penis said. Buffy found herself reluctantly agreeing.

“Buffy,” Giles said quietly. “I do believe your young man may be a bit confused about a few things. Including how to treat his girlfriend. Do you want me to talk to him when he returns from his trip?”

She shook her head. “Thanks, but I don’t think you’ll need to.” She was pretty sure she didn’t even have a boyfriend anymore.

“You okay, luv?” Spike asked quietly. He was looking at her, concern softening his features. It was too much. All of it: Riley being a big jerk and Spike being nice, and...

**Putting her hand over her mouth and blinking away tears, she ran for the back room. **


	10. What Are Friends For?

 

The training room door creaked open. “Um, Buffy?” Willow’s hesitant voice called.

Buffy hastily wiped at her eyes and sniffled quietly, trying not to look like she’d run off to cry a few minutes ago because her boyfriend—ex-boyfriend, probably—wasn’t being very nice. He’d just been so frustrating lately! She used to look forward to spending time with him, she was pretty sure, but now whenever she saw him her head started aching and her muscles all tensed up and…boy, that probably wasn’t a good sign.

“Are you okay?” Willow closed the door behind her and moved to settle down cross-legged on the pile of training mats next to Buffy. “Riley was kind of…”

“Rude?” Buffy let out a watery laugh. “Also: annoying, obnoxious and totally unhelpful?”

Willow smiled tentatively. “Well, I was going to say ‘a buttface’, but yours works too. What’s going on with you guys?”

Buffy let out a gusty sigh. “God, Will, I have no idea. I don’t even think there is a me and Riley anymore. He did the same thing last night, just demanding that we go away for the weekend even though I told him I couldn’t and then storming off. Does it even count as a breakup if one person just yells and leaves?”

Willow patted her arm sympathetically. “I don’t know, but it definitely falls into the buttface category.”

“He’s being so stupid!” Buffy threw up her hands in frustration. “I mean, Spike’s doing a way better job at helping me right now, and he’s not even my boyfriend!”

“Uh,” Willow blinked at her for a moment. “Spike’s been…helping?”

Buffy blushed. “Well, a little. He’s helped with patrol and…stuff.” Stuff like giving her all kinds of ideas for her late-night fantasies, which now included her wearing crotchless panties under a very impractical-for-Slaying skirt and being pinned up against the wall of a mausoleum. The body behind her was as cool and hard as the cock he was thrusting into her aching pussy and…

“Huh, I guess he helped with Tara, too,” Willow said thoughtfully.

Buffy thumped back down to earth and almost demanded to know when, exactly, Spike had been helping Tara before she realized what Willow meant. “Oh, right, that night with the invisible demons.”

“Then it’s probably good we’re helping with his curse, I guess,” Willow mused. “He could be useful.” She giggled. “Did you see Riley’s face when Spike’s, um, little friend started insulting him? Like Riley couldn’t do that without directions!” Willow’s giggles got louder, but Buffy felt her smile falter. Willow’s laughter abruptly stopped and her eyes got wide. “Uh, he doesn’t actually need directions, does he? You guys have been together for like a year!”

Buffy avoided Willow’s eyes and shrugged.

“Buffy.” Willow’s tone was suddenly deadly serious. “Please tell me Riley knows how to find your little man in the boat.” She gasped and put her hand over her mouth. “Oh my god, the other thing isn’t true either, is it?”

***

“Is she talking about us?” Spike’s prick whispered.

“Keep quiet so I can hear,” Spike hissed back. Even with his hearing it wasn’t easy to eavesdrop through a closed door across the bloody room, and Xander’s constant chatter wasn’t helping matters. Especially when the other half of that chatter was coming from inside Spike’s pants.

“I’m just saying they’re pretty good, even if they are popular.” Xander finally wound down for the moment, staring uncomfortably lower than Spike was really used to.

Spike’s prick snorted. “Please, U2 is totally overrated.”

Xander put his hands on his hips and frowned at the front of Spike’s jeans. “Come on, you have to give them some credit!”

Spike edged over towards the research table and picked up a book, holding it in front of his softening cock while still trying to listen for Buffy’s voice. He turned to the bookcase and pretended to be searching for another book on curses while his damn dick carried on with the scoobies like they were all friends.

“I don’t have to give them any credit!” Spike’s prick exclaimed. “Look, just because they say their lyrics are all deep and crap doesn’t mean they actually are. I’m telling you, Van Morrison can write circles around them.”

“Spike’s penis does have a point, honey,” Anya observed, idly flipping through a book without once glancing at the contents. “A lot of their songs really sound the same.”

“You’re not supposed to take his side!” Xander exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Spike’s crotch.

Anya shrugged. “Well, I can’t help it if he’s right.”

Spike rolled his eyes. So far he’d managed to glean that Buffy had stopped crying and Willow was quizzing her about that lunkhead who’d just blown off the most amazing woman on the planet. Spike smirked. What an utter berk.

“…don’t even think there is a me and Riley anymore,” he heard Buffy say. Spike nearly dropped the book he was holding.

“You said you loved U2,” Xander accused.

“Well, it seems to get you in the mood,” Anya replied airily. “So of course I’m not opposed.”

Tara hunched a little further over her book, the back of her neck a startling shade of red.  

Spike strained his ears, wanting desperately to tell them all to shut the hell up but unwilling to break this fragile truce the Slayer had offered him. The last thing he wanted was to be kicked out in the cold when she’d just chosen him over her idiot boyfriend. His heart soared. She had, hadn’t she? Buffy’d chosen to stay and help research his curse over a weekend away with the ex-soldier.

He wondered if she’d let him thank her somehow, maybe do something special for her, like get her something sharp for patrol, or those pink crotchless panties with the bows…or maybe both.

Spike imagined her carrying a wicked-looking machete (perfect for beheadings) while wearing an extremely short dress. It was almost more of a long shirt really, and when she bent forward to peer through the doorway of a darkened crypt he could see the undercurve of her lovely ass and her cunt glistening, just waiting for him to…

“Oh god, she must be talking about us,” Spike’s penis whispered breathlessly, rock-hard again. “Should we go and make her feel much, much better?”

Spike shushed his dick just as Buffy said his name and something indistinct, but then, oh then: “…he’s helped with patrol and…stuff,” Buffy’s muffled voice said. Spike did drop his book that time. Sure, he’d gone on patrol with her last night, but what other ‘stuff’ did she mean? From her breathless tone he’d almost think she meant…Spike reached down and adjusted his aching prick, hope filling him.

“She is,” he murmured back. “Telling Red about how we’ve been helping.”

“I can totally help some more right now,” his cock said eagerly. “I’m ready, just point me in her direction!” It paused. “And maybe help me with these pants.”

“Xander also hates pants,” Anya said nonchalantly.

“Man, I remember when pants were all soft and cozy and left me plenty of room, but now he shoves me in these awful, confining  things all the time,” his cock complained.

“Xander prefers boxers,” Anya replied. “Especially silk ones. He really…”

“Ahn!” Xander hissed, his face flushing.

“What?” Anya turned to her boyfriend. “I think it’s nice you and Spike are bonding. You always complain about being the only boy, even though Giles is usually around.” Anya furrowed her brow. “Where is Giles anyway?”

“Me and Spike are not bonding!” Xander protested. “Me and Spike’s…” He face rapidly went from red to white. “Oh god, we are bonding.”

Anya patted his arm. “It’s nice you’re making an effort, especially if Buffy’s going to be bringing him around more often.”

“Wha…?” Xander asked faintly.

“What was that?” Spike echoed, jerking his eyes away from the door that led to the back room of the shop and tried to look like he hadn’t been eavesdropping on the Slayer’s girly chat.

Anya beamed at them both. “You’re already finishing each other’s sentences!”

Spike and Xander studiously took their seats and avoided one another’s eyes, opening their books and pretending to get back to work.

“Wait, aren’t we going to take our pants off?” a small voice piped up from under the table.

Spike ignored it.

***

“Oh, Buffy,” Willow said, patting her knee sympathetically. “I don’t…that’s awful.”

“It wasn’t that bad, really,” Buffy said weakly. Willow’s incredulous look made Buffy slump her shoulders. “Okay, so it was pretty bad.”

“Not even once?” Willow asked in disbelief.

“I mean, kind of?” Buffy hedged. “But he…you know there’s more to a relationship than sex.” She crossed her arms and went with deflection. She really wasn’t sure how they ended up discussing this so in-depth. Being with Tara had been an eye-opening experience for Willow, apparently.

“Like communication?” Willow lifted an eyebrow.

Buffy’s shoulders slumped further. “I did! He just…he didn’t enjoy those things.”

“That’s ridiculous!” Willow threw her hands up in the air. “How can you not enjoy making your partner feel good!” Her voice was getting much louder and Buffy glanced at the closed door between them and the main shop, hoping everyone wasn’t listening to Willow recap Buffy’s pathetic love life.

“Well…” Buffy cast around for something positive to say about Riley. “He…tried?”

Willow snorted loudly. “Oh my goddess, good riddance. Seriously Buffy.” Willow leaned forward, her expression intense. “I’ve got some great books you can borrow. I mean, they’re Tara’s but I’m sure she won’t mind. You really need to find a true partner, but in the meantime, there’s lots of thing you can do for yourse-”

“Okay!” Buffy interrupted, sure her face must be bright red. “Sounds great. True partner. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Willow nodded importantly and got to her feet. “You think the food’s here yet?” She reached down and Buffy accepted the hand up, brushing off the seat of her jeans.

“Go ahead,” Buffy waved in the direction of the main shop. “I just need a minute.”  _ To remember all the reasons Spike is not an option for a partner in that way.  _ She added silently. At the moment, she couldn’t even think of one.

Willow leaned in and gave her a quick hug. “You don’t need stupid Riley.”

“Thanks, Will.” Buffy smiled at her friend. How long had it been since they’d had a heart to heart like this? “You know, I’m really glad you found Tara.”

Willow blushed. “Me too.”

Still smiling, Buffy watched her friend leave the training room. She let out a breath and reminded herself that Spike and his talking penis were off limits, even though it wouldn’t stop hitting on her. And had said Spike liked her. Giles would be disappointed and Willow would…actually, she might not mind so much. And Xander seemed to be getting along just fine with parts of Spike, so that was a start.

“Slayer?” Spike’s voice had her jumping and swallowing a shriek like he’d caught her naked. She crossed her arms over her breasts and hoped he hadn’t noticed her nipples standing at attention even though the room was warm. Spike lifted one eyebrow lazily and sauntered into the room. She could see his poor penis trapped and straining against the front of his jeans. Maybe she should just reach out and slowly lower that zipper for him before… “Think I might go hunt up a couple of beasties to hit, all this reading’s making me go cross-eyed.”

Buffy couldn’t help but grin. “I hate researching, too.”

“Me three!” Spike’s penis called.

“Yeah?” Spike moved closer to her and the temperature of the room seemed to increase. “Want to come?” His voice was a low purr.  

Buffy almost moaned. “Um,” she managed to squeak. “Sure?”

Spike ran his tongue along his bottom lip and oh my god when had he gotten so close to her? Buffy couldn’t tear her eyes from his mouth.

“Shall we go?” Spike murmured. His hand brushed her arm. “Might want a jacket, you look a bit chilled.”

“You’re supposed to take her clothes off!” Buffy heard his penis hiss. “Not add more!”

Buffy felt so hot she thought she might be feverish. “Uh huh,” she agreed, snatching up her sweatshirt from the floor. She took a breath and tried to calm her pounding heart. “Let me just go, um, tell the others.” She made a beeline for the main part of the magic shop, hoping no one would be able to tell she’d just been thinking about jumping Spike in the back room.

The others were still gathered around the table, and Giles had reappeared, leaning a hip against the counter with his glass of something. He lifted his eyebrows when Spike emerged behind her.

“We’re going to patrol,” Buffy informed the room in general.

“You and Spike?” Giles asked, his eyebrows climbing higher.

“Did just fine last night,” Spike replied, shrugging. Buffy’s eyes wandered down to the front of his jeans again. It really did look uncomfortable, maybe she could…

“Last night?” Giles repeated faintly. He lifted his almost empty glass and muttered something about another bottle before disappearing into his office again.

“Have fun!” Anya called cheerfully.

“Ta, pet,” Spike replied. Buffy would have been miffed at the endearment not aimed at her, but his eyes hadn’t left her since she’d agreed to patrol with him. “Ladies first.” He pulled open the door and Buffy felt a thrill run through her as she stepped outside. The sky was overcast but the air was still warm.  

“Where to?” she asked.

**Spike looked at her in surprise before his expression softened into something she didn’t dare name. “Lead the way.” **


	11. We Have Liftoff

 

“Ow!” Buffy barked as she stubbed her toe and stumbled, barely stopping herself from falling flat on her face.

Had that tombstone always been there? Buffy glared at it, then nearly jumped out of her skin as Spike’s hand slid gently around her elbow.

“You okay?” he asked, brows drawn together. She stared at him, mesmerized by the concern in his eyes and voice. Heat was radiating out from where he was touching her, threatening to melt her bones.There was a hungry pulse from between her thighs.

She couldn’t look away from him. Which was arguably why she’d fallen in the first place. Patrol had been a big bust. Er, well, maybe it had? She’d been so focused on the vampire at her side that there could have been another twenty performing a Rockettes routine and she might not have noticed. Spike just…he was so…there, with his lips, hands, arms, legs…

“What happened?” his penis asked, sounding very worried.

Buffy’s eyes dropped to the front of Spike’s jeans. There was that part of him, too. It was kind of hard to ignore. Spike himself seemed to be having issues with it judging from the number of times he’d fussed with his fly and belt as he’d adjusted himself. The insistent bulge had been there since they’d left the Magic Box. Not that she’d been looking, exactly, just that it was impossible to miss. When you were checking out the front of someone’s pants. “I tripped,” she answered, startled to hear how breathless her voice was. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” his penis said. “You’re going to need your strength later.”

Spike’s shoulders slumped and his hand dropped away from her arm. She almost made a noise at the loss of contact. It felt like a light had been shut off or a door slammed closed. “Oh please,” she said, glaring at Spike’s crotch. “I’m the Slayer. Like you could possibly outlast me.”

“Erg,” Spike gurgled.

“Oh baby,” his cock purred. “I’m up for anything you can dream of.”

Buffy wanted to have witty reply, but her mind wasn’t cooperating. It was too busy dreaming. She crossed her arms over her chest to hide the painfully tightened tips of her breasts. “Probably?” she squeaked and determinedly started walking again, keeping her eyes focused on the ground. Spike hesitated only a moment before catching up with her.

“Um, so we should finish here, then try the cemeteries on the other side of town?” he said awkwardly. Furtively she snuck a glance at him. He was staring wide eyed at her.

“Sure, but it looks like it might rain. We can always hit them tomorrow.”

Spike’s happy smile made her blush. Had she just invited him to patrol with her again?

“I bet you look gorgeous all wet,” his penis said as Buffy walked around the corner of a crypt. She blushed harder, then giggled as Spike, who was still goofily grinning at her, turned at the same time she did and walked right into the side of the tomb.

He winced and rubbed his nose. “There’s a wall there.” He looked so…cute. She was having a lot of trouble remembering the last time he’d done something really evil and not just annoying. And lately he’d been all with the helpful and the nice.

“Smooth move,” his dick sighed. “Girl’s not going to want us if we look like idiots.”

Something deep in her belly clenched. She did want. Wanting was not the problem. There were a lot of things about her and Spike that were a lot problemier. Like he was a vampire and she was the Slayer. Only that didn’t feel very important at all, not like it used to, anyway.  They were on the same side now, weren’t they? 

“Shut up,” Spike hissed, looking downwards.

If only the universe would send her some kind of sign that they were meant to be together, so Buffy would know she wasn’t just going nuts.

The clouds overhead opened up and a freezing cold, torrential downpour started. Instantly she was soaked to the bone. Spike grabbed her hand and tugged. Together they ran, though she could hardly see in the dark and rain. It was only a few moments later that they burst into Spike’s crypt. He let go of her hand and slammed the door behind them. Buffy stood in the middle of the room, dripping, while Spike, cursing under his breath, stripped his duster off and dropped in on the floor. He pulled his shirt over his head  and tossed it away.

Okay, wow. Buffy couldn’t get enough air in.

Spike had both hands on his face, wiping off the water. He glanced up at her and froze.

The only sound was her harsh panting.

His lips parted, like he was going to say something, but then she moved, or he did, and the distance between them disappeared. His strong arms wrapped around her waist and her hands slipped into his hair as their mouths crashed together. Their tongues slid past each other on the way to explore. She lapped at every nook and cranny of his mouth, territory she’d never forgotten from the night of Willow’s spell. It was as intoxicating as she remembered.

Spike whimpered when she suddenly stepped away, but it turned to a growl as she pulled her tanktop off and launched herself back into his arms. His mouth was immediately devouring hers again. She couldn’t get enough of his taste. One of his hands, the fingers spread, slid down the bare skin of her back to roughly grab her ass. He jerked her firmly against him and Buffy’s knees threatened to buckle as he wantonly rubbed his erection against her.

“Uh, guys?” his dick piped up. “Is what I think’s happening actually happening?”

Answering would have meant stopping the kissage, which so wouldn’t be cool. Instead she hooked a leg around Spike’s waist so her overheated core could frantically grind against his hard-on.

“Oh god, warm, really warm,” it gasped. She mewled and rubbed her aching nipples against the taut planes of Spike’s chest. Whatever reasons she had for denying herself this had all shattered under the onslaught of Spike’s body against hers. “This isn’t a joke, right? You guys aren’t just messing with my head? Actually, never mind, Buffy you can mess with my head. Please mess with it. Want to see you.”

His jeans were getting in the way. She put both her feet on the floor and forced herself to take several steps back. Spike looked pained. He reached for her. “Buffy…”

“Take your pants off,” she said before she lost her nerve. This was happening. Logic and reason had nothing to do with it. She didn’t think she’d ever felt more alive. Her body was screaming for his, her lower belly was molten and her pussy ached. She was wetter than she’d ever been.

Spike’s hands went to his belt. “You too,” he mumbled hoarsely. She had her shoes thrown to the side and jeans off by the time he’d gotten his fly unzipped. The plain cotton panties in light blue she had on felt dowdy. It’s not like she’d been planning for anyone else to see them. There weren’t even any bows, just serviceable elastic. Thankfully, they didn’t have the day of the week printed on them.

Spike bent over and pulled his pants off, though his eyes were locked on her. He straightened up and her gaze went to his cock. “Oh,” she breathed. He really hadn’t been ready at all the other day. His dick was standing nearly straight out from his body and pointing right at her. A sense of feminine power rushed through her. She’d made him like that. And there was a lot of him…to be made…like that. Her sex throbbed. He was going to push that inside her, stretch her, fill her up. Make her come. His cock was beautiful and she was wearing ugly panties. “I’m sorry I’m not wearing prettier underwear.”

Spike’s eyebrow shot up.

“They’re lovely,” his dick said. She eyed it but it wasn’t like it moved or appeared any different than before. “They’re now my favorite pair of panties that you own,” it said, sounding completely serious. “And you have very nice tits.”

“Yeah,” Spike added.

“T-thanks,” she said looking down and waiting for the expected ‘a guy only needs a handful’ speech she’d gotten from both Parker and Riley. Instead, she found herself lifted up in Spike’s arms and deposited on her back onto the floor with something sturdy but comfortable under her. She managed to figure out it was his duster right before his body covered hers. The hard line of his cock pressed against her leg as his mouth closed around her nipple. She moaned as his cool tongue flicked over the pebbled tip.

“Beautiful,” he groaned against her skin as he switched to the other side. Her legs were trapped between his and her heart nearly stopped as Spike shifted to grind his erection against her mound. Her clit was begging for attention. Bracing his hands on either side of her head he returned to kissing her mouth, even as he slowly pushed his cock between her legs. The head slid against the cotton of her panties and she gasped as it rubbed against her clit. Rocking slowly against her he continued to kiss her mouth in that all consuming way.

“Dude!” his dick hollered, the sound somewhat stifled. “You can quit with the foreplay. She’s really wet down here.”

Buffy blushed and Spike muttered something unintelligible before rearing back to study her face.

“Tell me you want me,” he said.

“I want you.”

He pulled back and thrust against her panty covered core. She sucked in a breath.

“Say you want me inside you, Buffy.”

She didn’t think she’d ever wanted something more in her life. Her hands, which had been pressed against his back, slid down to grab his ass. “I want you inside me…Spike.”

With a growl, he stripped her panties from her and pushed her legs apart. She was shaking she needed him so badly. She’d thought she’d had some idea what lust and desire were, but she’d been wrong. It hurt that he wasn’t already filling her.

“Oh, god. She’s perfect,” his dick said as Spike shifted his weight to one hand and fisted his shaft. His eyes found hers. One side of his mouth curled up into a cheeky smile. Slowly he brushed the velvet tip of his cock against her clit.

Buffy threw her head back and moaned. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders. Still grinning, Spike rubbed the head of his cock back and forth across her clit. Buffy bit her lip. She was…she was…Her hips lifted, her thighs shook, and with a surprised gasp she came.

“Buffy!” Spike barked, his eyes wide. With a grunt, he rammed himself inside her, the sudden intrusion making her yell as her pussy clamped and fluttered around his length. He pulled back and slammed home again and she gasped as she felt his shaft buck inside her. His face was a pained mask of ecstasy.

Buffy lay still under Spike as he collapsed against her. She hoped he wasn’t going to fall asleep. She made a face she was glad he couldn’t see. That’d been nice, but she’d somehow been expecting more. Maybe there would be a next time? The lead up had all been really good. He probably just hadn’t been able to help it, having been raring to go, so to speak, for days.

Inside her, his cock twitched. “Oh man,” it said, the voice very muffled. “Did you see that? I did that! I made her come!”

“Good for you,” Spike muttered. He started pressing soft kisses against her shoulder. His dick twitched again and she clamped her inner muscles around it. Spike gasped.

“I’m ready!” his cock called. Buffy squeezed again. It wasn’t lying. He was rock hard again.

“Buffy,” Spike whispered, his mouth hovering over hers as he rocked his hips.

“You can keep going?” she asked, slightly bewildered. In her entire experience once a guy got off that was it. Maybe some snuggling if you were lucky.

Spike frowned and stopped moving.

“Hey!” his dick yelled.

“Do you not want to?” he asked. His muscles tensed, like he was about to leave her lying there. Almost panicking, Buffy locked her arms and legs around him and rolled them over.

“Yes! Please!” his penis said as she sat up, using her hands to pin him to the floor.

“I want to! I’ve just never known…” she trailed off as Spike vamped out.

“Bloody gits, all of them.” He jackknifed up of the floor, slamming himself deep inside her. Buffy groaned, the noise echoed by his cock. She pushed him roughly so he was flat on the floor and began riding him, lifting up only to quickly drop back down. One of Spike’s hands settled on her hip, urging her on, but the other slid down so he was massaging her clit. His demon features receded and he gazed at her like he wanted to worship her.

“Are…they…bouncing?” his cock asked.

“Yeah, mate,” Spike said, his eyes dropping from her face to her chest. Buffy giggled. “Right gorgeous.” His thumb pressed harder on her clit and Buffy had to close her eyes as the tension built in her body once more. She flew over the edge, barely coming down before she came again, and then again. She had to stop and catch her breath. Spike sat up to kiss her, his lips soft against hers. Nuzzling along her jaw, he caught her earlobe between her teeth, tugging gently before whispering:  “I’m going to take you hard now, luv. I can’t contain it any longer.”

She nodded and Spike rolled them back over. He pounded into her, too fast for her to keep up, but she didn’t care, she was already floating on a river of satisfaction. With a last flurry of thrusts, he came, his cock spasming inside her. “Buffy,” he groaned loudly, and from between her legs his dick yelled the same. It made her smile to know all of him was happy with her.

When he came back to earth he turned them to their sides, her leg over his hip and his cock still inside her. She snuggled against him. Okay, that’d been way more than she’d been expecting. She’d come, a lot. Spike totally deserved a medal or something. Which she would give him, later, when she wasn’t so tired.

“This is the most wondrous pussy ever,” Spike’s penis said, sounding dazed. “I think I’ll just stay in here forever.”

That worked.

****

Spike tenderly stroked his girl’s hair. Buffy had fallen asleep in his arms. She must have been holding in a lot of tension. God damn Riley for not seeing to her how she needed to be. Though the ex-soldier’s loss was his gain. Spike barely allowed himself the to think about how Buffy trusted him so explicitly that sleeping in his arms was an option. She must know, on some level, how he felt about her. That she was worth more to him than everything else in existence put together.

“We did it,” his prick said for the thirtieth time. The blasted thing didn’t seem to be thinking straight, not that he could blame it. Buffy had just shattered everything he’d thought he’d known about the world and himself. He’d be hers from now until the end of time. It terrified him that she might not feel the same way. That he might just be something disposable to her.

She’d been sleeping for an hour, tight against him, his cock still held in the haven of her body. A little enigmatic smile had been playing about her lips. She looked peaceful, but she wouldn’t thank him if she slept the night away. And he needed to know: what was next? “Buffy,” he said softly.

Her lids fluttered open.  “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied, kissing her forehead.

“I should go,” she sighed.

Fear gripped him. This was it, then. He’d had his run.

“Not that I want to.” She put a hand on his face. “But Dawn and my mom haven’t seen me all day. I need to make sure they’re okay.”

Spike’s heart was twisting itself into knots. He was having a hard time figuring out her words. Maybe she was just letting him down easy. She shifted and there was a grunt of alarm from his cock.

“Wait, no, don’t leave. I want to be inside you. I think I’ve found my home.” It sounded as upset as he felt.

Buffy sighed and moved so he slipped free of her. The loss was like a bucket of ice water over his head.

“No,” his pick groaned. “Please no.”

Spike waited for Buffy to put him in his place, but when she scooted down eye level with his groin instead, he nearly dusted in shock.

“It’s okay.” She affectionately patted his dick. “You did a good job. I just need to go check on my mom and sister and then I’ll come back, alright?”

“Promise?” it said huffily.

“Promise.” She pressed a kiss to the underside, which would have had him ready to go again if he wasn’t so surprised. Buffy kissed his lips as well before standing up and getting dressed. He felt helpless to do anything but watch her. Especially when she couldn’t figure out where her panties were and gave up and pulled her pants back on without them. 

She paused at the door. “I’ll be back in a couple of hours, see you then?”

“Yeah, be right here.”

She left, taking all the sunshine with her.

“She’s never coming back!” his prick wailed the second the crypt door clicked closed.

“What?” He sat up and ran a hand over his face.

“We’ll never see her again! Why did you let her leave? You should have gone with her! You still could, hurry up!”

“She’ll be fine, girl doesn’t need us clinging to her while she checks on her family.” He pulled a crushed pack of cigs out of his duster’s pocket and lit one.

“How can you be so calm?” His cock’s voice trembled. “We need her.”

Spike sighed and stood. “Of course we bloody need her, but you heard what she said. She’s coming back tonight. She kissed you. It’s all going to be fine.” He desperately needed to believe that, though his hand shook as he pulled a cup of blood from the fridge and put it on to heat. He looked at the pile of his clothes, but putting them on seemed like more trouble than it was worth.

The microwave dinged and he took his dinner over to his chair, sitting down and staring at the wall while the smoke from his cig spiraled up into the darkness. “That was the best bleeding shag I’ve ever had,” he finally risked, eyeing his flaccid cock. It looked…sad.

“Yeah,” it agreed. There was silence as he snubbed out his cigarette and sipped the blood. “How long before she gets back?” his prick finally asked.

“Soon,” he replied. It had to be. Buffy had said…

He lit another cigarette.

****

Buffy walked towards her home as quickly as she could. The rain had stopped and she easily avoided the puddles.

What had she done?

Besides lose her underwear. Boy did that feel weird. How did Spike stand it? 

Her body and most of her mind agreed that she’d finally found her match, though a tiny part of her was scared that her friends and Watcher would disown her. Though she didn’t know exactly why the would. Spike wasn’t their favorite person but it wasn’t like he’d ever murdered anyone’s girlfriend or goldfish. 

Nothing had really changed at all. Buffy frowned, that was wrong, everything had changed. She felt relaxed for the first time in ages, not a single tense muscle anywhere. The stars seemed brighter, the air sweeter, and the world a less scary place. She even admired how the lights of the town reflected prettily off the raindrops on a car window.

Buffy had the sneaking suspicion she was happy. Really happy. She giggled, then clamped her hand over her mouth. She felt wonderful and in more than a I-just-had-mind-blowing-sex way. Her heart was lighter because she knew she wasn’t alone. It was all too much for her to figure out right now, but she couldn’t wait to get back to Spike. Was he her boyfriend now?

What about Riley?

She was pretty sure they’d broken up. Two temper-tantrums in as many days accompanied by leaving pretty much meant they weren’t a couple anymore, right? They hadn’t really been getting along for a while, though this whole thing with Spike was making it majorly complicated. It felt like she’d been falling towards Spike for years, maybe even since the first time they’d met. And now that she was less with the wondering and more with the crazy-hot sex, it totally seemed inevitable.

Riley wouldn’t think so. She needed to see him to make sure he knew there wasn’t a him and her anymore. Tomorrow would be good for that, though. If he’d gone to LA she’d just call him.  Images of being wrapped around Spike for hours danced through her head. Fantasies and her own fingers weren’t going to cut it now that she’d had the real thing.

Buffy sighed heavily. “Ugh,” she said out loud. “I’m going to have to see Riley.”

She almost fell over as a ticked off female voice spoke up from her slightly bruised vagina. “Oh hell no, girlfriend.”


	12. Look Who's Talking Too

 

Buffy stared at the front of her jeans, her mouth hanging open. She was going crazy. All the stress had finally made her brain snap like a twig. Or kissing Spike’s penis had given her some kind of horse-whispering power, except with private parts. Or…oh no. Oh, it couldn’t be. Had he somehow passed on his curse? She was going to kill him. Oh god, she was going to have to go live in a cave. There was no way she could be in the same room with Giles or her mother. Or Dawn, or her friends. Not ever in a million years. Maybe Spike would let her move in with him.

“It’s probably too soon for that,” Buffy muttered to herself, trying not to panic.

“Too soon?” The little voice in her pants sounded entirely too perky for Buffy’s peace of mind. “Oh no, it’s so not too soon. Do you have any idea how much lost time we have to make up for? You go right ahead and take us back to Spike’s penis. I’ll be totally fine. Better than fine! Oh god, the way he fills…”

Buffy frantically shushed her vagina, looking around at the dark houses surrounding her. Hopefully no one was awake to see her talking to her crotch like some kind of lunatic. Is this what Spike had been dealing with for the last couple of days? Poor vampire. Maybe she should go back and…

“Oh yeah,” her vagina sighed. “I know, I can’t stop thinking about that penis either. It’s just perfect, don’t you think? I mean, I’m not saying we’re slutty, because hello, a girl’s got needs, but there’s been enough variety for me to say with confidence that it’s definitely the best. Ever.”

“I was thinking about punching him!” Buffy hissed, annoyed. Okay, so that was a lie, but her vagina didn’t just get to make those kinds of decisions unilaterally!

“Ooh, that’s a good idea,” her vagina responded enthusiastically. “There’s nothing better than a little foreplay. Remember when he was rubbing against us and-” 

Buffy dropped her head onto her hand. “Oh god, what am I going to do,” she groaned.

“You’re going to take those legs and walk us right back to Spike’s penis,” her vagina said unhelpfully. “At least this time we don’t have any embarrassing underwear on. I can’t believe the first time my sugar saw me I was covered in plain cotton! Do you still have that red lace pair? Maybe we should change into a skirt first.”

Buffy huffed and started marching towards her house, her hands fisted at her sides. She tried squeezing her thighs together, but that didn’t seem to slow the stream of words coming from between her legs.

“I’m going to kill him,” Buffy declared.

Her vagina laughed. “Oh girl.” The little voice was full of smugness. “You and I both know that’s never going to happen. Not when he’s the only one who’s ever bothered to treat us right.”

Buffy stopped in her tracks and gaped down at the front of her pants. “That is…that is just not true,” she sputtered. “Angel…”

Her vagina let out an incredibly loud, undignified snort.

There was a long, uncomfortable pause. Buffy could almost picture her vagina raising an eyebrow and daring her to continue. “Well, it’s complicated,” she finally hissed. She had to think really hard about all of this Spike stuff before she got involved with yet another vampire. 

And she had to make sure she was really broken up with Riley, because there was no way in hell he was ever going to measure up.

She blinked and rewound that last sentence through her brain. Huh, that was a weird but totally true thought. Although she probably shouldn’t lead with that when she talked to Riley, or he would blow a gasket, and she’d had enough of that over the last couple of days. Maybe she should just tell him that she was too busy for a boyfriend of any kind and he’d finally pack up and leave Sunnydale like all of his military buddies had done.

“Ugh, can you not think about Riley?” her vagina complained. “A girl can’t look her best when she’s as dry as the Mojave.”

Buffy rubbed her temple. She’d think about all that later. Right now she needed to drop in at home and make sure everything was okay, and then she’d do…something. They really needed to get this whole curse thing solved. How was she going to explain to Giles why her vagina was suddenly little Miss Chatty Cathy? She was just barely getting her head around this whole Spike-as-a-potential-boyfriend thing, there was no way her Watcher was ready for it.

If only she hadn’t tossed aside any sense of self-control and jumped Spike before they’d cured his curse. If only he hadn’t taken off his shirt and stood there all wet and tousled and looking like he’d just stepped out of her bedtime fantasies, his cock straining at the front of his jeans and making her ache with need…

“Oh, that’s much better,” her vagina said happily.

Buffy squeaked in embarrassment and tried to think of boring, lame things that had nothing to do with Spike. Things like taking out the overflowing trash or making grocery lists that Dawn refused to have any input on and then complained about later. Buffy let out a long, drawn out sigh. She really did need to make sure everyone at home was okay. She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of Glory for a little while, but that didn’t mean that skank wasn’t lurking around, just waiting for Buffy to be distracted. 

“Look, if I swear to take us back to Spike and his, uh, penis, do you think maybe you could not talk while I check on Dawn and Mom? I seriously think Mom’s been through enough lately.”  

A huffy, annoyed noise came out of her pants. “Fine, as long as you don’t even think about taking Riley back.”

Buffy rolled her eyes. “I already decided I won’t, okay? And not just for you.”

“Of course not,” her vagina retorted. “Obviously that gorgeous penis and his vampire played a part.” Buffy set her jaw and didn’t respond. “A really big part,” her vagina added a trifle breathlessly. “A really big, throbbing…”

“Okay!” Buffy exclaimed, glad no one was around to see how red her face was. “It’s time to be quiet now.”

She stopped on the sidewalk in front of her house and waited, glaring down at the front of her pants until she was sure it wasn’t going to blurt out any more inappropriate things about Spike and his penis in front of her mother.

Taking a deep breath, Buffy mounted the steps and went inside. At least Riley wasn’t lurking on the porch tonight. She wondered if he’d gone to L.A. on his own. She locked the front door behind her and shrugged off her damp sweatshirt. Her hair was probably an absolute mess.

A noise from the kitchen gave her pause as she started up the stairs. Frowning, she headed in that direction instead, keeping her footsteps light. She cautiously peeked through the doorway and let out the breath she’d been holding when she realized it was just her mother, standing at the stove and stirring something yummy-smelling.

“Hey, Mom,” Buffy moved fully into the kitchen as Joyce let out a startled gasp and spun around.

“Oh, Buffy, I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry.” Buffy settled herself on one of the stools at the counter. “Aren’t I the one who usually keeps vampire hours?” she asked teasingly.

Joyce wrinkled her nose. “I feel like all I do is sleep lately. I thought since I was feeling well enough I’d try to go over some of the orders for the gallery.”

“Are you sure you’re up for that?” Buffy asked.

Joyce put one hand on her hip and gave Buffy an exasperated look. “Stop hovering, Mother.”

Buffy grinned, glad to see her mom was feeling a little better, at least for the moment. “Fine, then can I have some hot chocolate?”

“Of course you can.” Joyce shut off the stovetop and hunted up two mugs before filling them both to the brim. “Did you get caught in that rainstorm earlier? It was really coming down.”

“A little,” Buffy admitted. “But, um, Spike let me wait it out at his crypt.” She winced, not sure why she was even bringing up Spike at all. A small, lusty sigh emanated from her pants that Buffy really hoped her mother hadn’t heard.

“That was nice of him, how’s he doing?” Joyce leaned against the counter and blew on the surface of her hot chocolate while Buffy tried to figure out how to answer that question.

“Okay, I guess?” Her vagina let out a tiny giggle and Buffy shifted in her seat, hoping it would stay quiet. “Why do you ask?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Joyce looked at Buffy over the top of her mug. “I’ve been going a little stir crazy cooped up in the house all day. I know you girls are trying your best to keep me company, but I was just thinking it must be kind of lonely, living like he does.”

“He’s a vampire, Mom. They’re all about the solitary creature of the night thing.” Well, most vampires were, but Spike always was kind of weird for a vampire. Even his penis had been adorably sad she was leaving tonight. Buffy hid her smile behind her mug.

Joyce waved a hand. “I know, but he’s always so chatty when I see him, it’s just hard to imagine him living without a little company. Do you think he needs  a girlfriend?”  

Buffy almost choked on her hot chocolate, glad the overhead lights were off so her mother couldn’t see how hard she was blushing. “I’m sure Spike can find…a little company.” She squeezed her thighs together in warning. “But if I see him again I’ll tell him you said hi.”

Joyce took a sip of her hot chocolate. “That reminds me, Riley called tonight.” She frowned. “Three times, actually. Is everything ok between you two?”

The good mood brought on by hot chocolate and the prospect of a long shower dissipated quickly. Buffy sighed in annoyance at the same time as her vagina. “I don’t know. Probably not,” Buffy admitted.

“Oh, Buffy.” Joyce gazed at her sympathetically. “I wish I could say things will get better, but times of stress have a way of showing us people’s true colors.” Her smile was wry.

Buffy wrinkled her nose. “Yeah, I think I figured that out.” She stared down at her nearly empty mug. “Riley just…I don’t know if he ever understood my life. Or even tried to.”

“Plus he was a total dud in bed,” her vagina muttered.

Buffy faked a cough and stood up as her mother looked around, confused. “Well, I’m going to get cleaned up and go to bed. I’m glad you’re feeling better.” She moved around the counter and set her mug in the sink before giving her mom an impulsive hug. “Thanks for the hot chocolate.”

Joyce patted her back. “Of course. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night.” Buffy climbed the stairs and peeked in on Dawn. Her sister was fast asleep, a pair of headphones askew on her head. Buffy shook her head fondly and headed to the bathroom to assess the damage to her hair.

She gasped in dismay when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. It looked like she’d been through a hurricane, not a rainstorm.  _ Hurricane Spike _ , her brain helpfully pointed out, replaying all the moments his hands had been in her hair. And everywhere else. Her vagina let out a tiny moan. “It’s fine.” Buffy took pity on it, turning on the shower. “We’re alone.” She pulled her shirt off over her head and remembered the look on Spike’s face when she’d done that in his crypt. Her nipples tightened into buds in the steamy air.

“Finally,” her vagina gasped, sounding like she’d been holding her breath the whole time. “My god, you’re killing me down here. We are in serious need of Spike’s penis.”  

“We,” Buffy informed her vagina, “are taking a shower so I can get rid of this rat’s nest on my head.” She shucked off her damp jeans and left them in a pile on the floor. “And then I’ll see if I can find that pair of red lace underwear, okay?”

If a vagina could smirk, Buffy was pretty sure hers would be at that moment. “Oh girl, we’re so going to get lucky.” 


	13. What River in Egypt?

 

Hoping there were no vampires lurking around a graveyard in the middle of the night probably wasn’t a great plan. Though with how she was dressed they’d probably think she was a street-walker that’d wandered away from her corner, not the Slayer. She wasn’t sure how her vagina had managed to talk her into the micro-mini black skirt and barely there bright red halter top. Her hair was down loose, blow-dried and slightly curled.

Her lipstick matched her shirt.

“I still think you should have worn the stilettoes,” her vagina said. “Spike’s penis probably really likes a good pair of fuck-me shoes.”

Buffy sighed. “We could be dressed head to toe in burlap and I’m sure Spike would have no problem getting an erection.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t look our best. You should buy silk panties and see if he likes them more than the lace.”

“He’s not going to be the one wearing them!” she snapped. Though she should probably stop pretending she wasn’t going to be doing the wild thing with Spike, a lot. “And I was thinking about going to that store Anya was talking about and looking for a crotchless set.”

“Girl, we’re going to have so much fun!” her vagina said gleefully. Well, it wasn’t wrong. The possibilities seemed endless. She smiled to herself, maybe she’d borrow some of those books from Willow after all. Riley had shown up unannounced at their dorm one time and caught Buffy rifling through the Kama Sutra, he’d looked almost scared. She figured Spike could probably pull off every position in there, and then come up with some of his own.

When they were done he’d help her on patrol, really help, not just be there for moral support, and make her laugh. Or maybe piss her off, on purpose, so they could have make up sex later on every surface of his crypt, even though they’d only been fake-mad in the first place. She frowned, Spike really needed to get a couch so they could curl up and watch movies together…and…

Buffy stopped in her tracks.

“Everything okay up there?” her vagina asked.

“No.”

‘What’s wrong? You can talk to me.”

“I…I think I like Spike.”

“And his penis?” her vagina said hopefully.

Buffy rolled her eyes. “That too, but I mean for more than sex. I like…being around him.”

“I’m not seeing the problem.”

“He’s a soulless vampire!”

Her vagina tsked. “I’m still not seeing the problem. In fact, thank goodness he’s a vamp. If I had to play one more round of ‘don’t squeeze the dick’ I was going to go hysterical, and sweets, you really don’t want to see me hysterical.”

“Doesn’t help the no soul havingness,” she grumbled. Her vagina had a point, it was annoying to have to hold back. And while she hadn’t been exactly been restraining herself earlier, she still had more to give. Spike was in for a surprise. 

“Which means he’ll be the same brand of evil when we get back there as when we left,” her vagina declared triumphantly. 

That didn’t hurt, either. And lately Spike’s brand of evil had been more like leaving the faucet on to drip rather than trying to destroy the world.

She was standing there, deep in thought, when something barreled into her and knocked her over.

“Hey!” she shouted, kicking the thing off her. It was a short, scabby demon.

“I will bring you to the great Glorificus!” it howled.

“I don’t think so,” her vagina growled. “I have an appointment with a very important penis.”

“Yeah!” Buffy agreed.

“What?” the demon asked, right before she slammed her fist into its face. It went flying and crashed into a tombstone. “Is that the key? Are you talking to the key?” it babbled as it woozily stood back up.

Her vagina snorted. “I’m usually the lock in that scenario.”

The demon staggered towards her, then seemed to think better of it. “She of the impeccable fashion sense will rule this realm in the end!” it crowed before running off.

Buffy groaned. Not cool. She’d sort of hoped Glory might have packed up and left, but apparently not.

“Are we going to Spike’s penis now? That wasn’t much of a fight and you’ve got all this adrenaline going, it’s getting a little hot down here.”

She winced. They needed to solve this curse, like yesterday, it was distracting her from the big hell-god shaped picture. She stomped to Spike’s crypt and banged open the door. She was going to give him a piece of her mind. He’d gotten himself cursed and passed it along to her!

Stupid vampire with his stupid talking…

Spike stood up from his chair with a wide smile on his face. He wasn’t wearing anything else. Buffy forgot what she was going to say.

****

“She’s been gone forever,” Spike’s prick complained. Loudly. Again. For the three hundredth time.

He was just about to remind it that it really hadn’t been that long when the door to his crypt slammed open and Buffy rushed in. Relief flooded him. He bounded out of his chair.

Bloody hell, what was she wearing? Her skirt barely covered her ass,her tits were nearly falling out of her top, her hair was freshly washed and she’d fixed up her face. She was wearing his colors. He thought he might black out as most of the blood in his body headed south.

“You came back!” his dick said ecstatically. 

“Yup.” Buffy’s eyes dropped from his face to his cock. She licked her lips, then shook her head. “But I’m mad,” she said, not sounding very mad at all. “Furious.” She was still staring at his hard-on.

“What about, luv?” he asked.

“You…you…” she sputtered.

“Hey, sugar. You ready over there? It’s monsoon season in here.”

Spike’s eyes went wide. That was not Buffy’s voice and he was completely sure it’d come from under her skirt.

“You gave me your curse,” Buffy said with a sigh.

“Uh, sorry?” he offered, not sure that he was all that sorry.

“Oh, honey!” Spike’s prick said, sounding entirely too gleeful. “I’m ready, willing, and able.”

“I just know that you are,” Buffy’s pussy purred. “And I’m so slick you’re going to slide right on in.”

“Uh,” Spike managed.

Buffy was blushing.

“Are we just going to stand here?” His cock hissed. “I thought you knew how this worked.”

“N-n-nice outfit,” Spike stammered. Buffy blushed harder.

“Show him your tits!” her pussy stage-whispered.

“Please?” his dick said eagerly.

Buffy slowly walked towards him, reaching up and undoing the strings that held her top up. It fell, leaving her breasts bare. As Spike’s knees started to give out at the vision Buffy was creating, he scrambled to his chair, collapsing into it.

“Can I feel them?” his dick asked.

Buffy paused. “How do I…?”

Her pussy snorted. “You get on your knees and push your boobs together and let him thrust in between, but not too long because, girl, I have needs.”

“Oh,” Buffy said softly. To Spike’s complete astonishment she dropped to her knees between his legs and bent forward, letting her tits fall on either side of his cock. Hesitantly, she pushed her breasts together with her hands, trapping his hard-on between them. It was far better than what his imagination had been able come up with. 

His cock moaned breathlessly. “Amazing, soft…” it trailed off into a another happy sigh.  Spike couldn’t even find his voice. He thrust shallowly a few times. “So good,” his prick mumbled. Spike wholeheartedly agreed. He could spend forever surrounded by the lush feel of-

There was a polite fake-cough from Buffy’s cunny.

Spike attempted to get control of himself. “I’ll give you a proper pearl necklace someday soon, kitten, but right now how about you come up here?” Buffy was straddling him in the next second, her arms around his neck and her mouth on his.  

He couldn’t wait. Working a hand under her skirt he pulled the crotch of her panties aside, lace from the feel of them. 

“Red lace!” His prick said gleefully. Spike grinned, but he bet his cock would agree with him that nothing would ever be as sweet as the faded blue cotton that was now tucked safely in the pocket of his duster. He was keeping those for posterity. 

A finger across her folds let him know that her pussy hadn’t been kidding, Buffy was wet as hell. He positioned the head of his cock at the opening to her body.

“You ready, honey?” his dick said. “Because I’m coming in.”

“Take me you fiend!” her pussy cried.

Buffy winced and Spike grinned. She cracked an eye open. “You’re enjoying this too much,” she grumbled.

“It’s always a bit hard to suss out what’s going on in that brain of yours, not wondering at all right now.”

She looked heavenward, but was smiling too. “Hurry up…you fiend,” she said, lightly smacking his chest.

Christ, he’d dusted and through some sort of accounting error gone to heaven.

With a grunt, he surged up inside of her. Four voices gasped, and then sighed at the feeling of him filling her. Buffy brought her lips back to his as she began rolling her hips.

There were so many things he wanted to do with her and to her, and he couldn’t think of a blasted one at the moment as he slid his prick in and out of her hot, tight quim. He was fairly certain he wasn’t going to be functional brain-wise for weeks, maybe years. 

He quickened his pace and Buffy kept up with him. She felt so amazingly wet and snug around his prick. 

“Squeeze me!” his dick panted. Buffy complied, there was a pause, and then with a smirk she complied a whole lot more. 

Oh bloody hell, the chit had been holding out on him. 

Spike roared, standing up out of the chair and fucking her for all he was worth.

“Spike!” Buffy was coming around his prick, but he couldn’t slow down as she continued to milk him with her inner muscles. She was brilliant.

Her pussy fluttered and pulsed again. “More! I can take more!” it yelled, sounding disconcertingly like it was talking with its mouth full.

Spike vamped out and give it what it was asking for, his claws digging into Buffy’s ass. She was clinging to his shoulders, her face buried against his neck. She came again and sunk her teeth into his throat. A bolt of lightning lanced straight through his body, terminating in his groin. He came hard, another roar escaping him as his vision whited out. When he could see again, he sagged back into the chair, Buffy still snug against him.

Looked dazed she pushed herself upright, but made no move to get off his lap. “Wow,” she said.

“Uh-huh.” His mind was still fuzzy. He was never giving her up. Ever. Never. Never ever.

There was a low murmur as their respective genitals whispering sweet nothings to each other.

“I forgot to tell you something because you were all with the naked,” Buffy said after a while. 

“Uh-huh,” he managed again and forced his human mask back into place. 

“Before I got here I ran into a  minion of Glory’s.”

Spike banished as much of the post-sex glow from his mind as he could. “Wait, what?”

“I beat it up and it ran away.” Buffy bit her lip. “But it kind of shook me, you know? I was hoping maybe we wouldn’t be seeing her anymore.”

He pulled Buffy tight against him, wanting to protect her from the universe. “The bint still after this missing key?”

“Yeah, think so.” Buffy paused and took a deep breath. “It’s Dawn.”

“What?”

“I did a spell not that long ago…and Dawn’s not really a person, or she is, but not? Person and key? It’s confusing. She’s only been in Sunnydale a few months.”

Spike frowned. “But I remember–“

“We all do.”

“Who else knows this?”

“Just Giles and me…and now you.”

Buffy looked into his eyes and he understood what she was trusting him with. “I’ll help you keep her safe, luv.”

“Thank you.” She dropped her gaze to where their bodies were joined. “And we need to get this curse figured out.”

He ran a hand down her back. “Should probably go bother your Watcher again. While he might not be too keen on helping yours truly, he’ll figure it out for his Slayer.”

“But I’ll have to tell him…” She trailed off and Spike felt his face fall. He looked away from her. She’d dressed up for him, but letting her friends know they were together was a whole different story.

“We’ll just make something up,” he said, resigned. Bleeding idiot, had he really thought Buffy would trot him out in front of the scoobies as her boyfriend?

She put her hand on his cheek and brought his gaze back to hers. “Thank you,” she whispered. “But it’s just weird because it’s Giles, he’s kind of my dad.  It’s not like we’re going to be able to hide that we’re together anyways.” She looked down ruefully. “They’re sort of chatty.”

Oh, hell, he was going to have to have a talk with his prick. It was reciting a bloody Oscar Wilde poem while Buffy’s cunny sighed dreamily.

“And, Spike…I don’t think I want to be all secret girl. I want you to hang around with me at the Magic Box, and patrolling, and even at home. My mom’s been lonely and wouldn’t mind some company.”

Spike felt poleaxed. She wanted him around. “Right. Good that.” He kissed her before he could start in on the poetry.

****

Buffy knocked on Giles’ door. She was a little worried, though she wasn’t sure of exactly what. Things had been way worse the last time she’d slept with a vampire. This wasn’t even in the same league as far as unfortunate sexual consequences went. 

“Yes?” A sleepy looking Giles answered the door, frowning when he saw Spike standing next to her. “What happened?”

“One of Glory’s minions attacked me in the cemetery, I still don’t think she knows about the key, and I’m sleeping with Spike and got his curse and it’s distracting so we need to fix it,” she said all in one breath as she walked into his apartment. She headed for the fridge. “And I’m thirsty.”

“I’m not surprised,” her vagina said. “I’ve been so wet I don’t know how the rest of you hasn’t turned into dust. You need to hydrate so we can get back on Spike’s penis again.”

“Excuse me?” Giles was looking frantically back and forth between her and Spike. 

“Is there any blood?” Spike’s dick called. “We could use a top off.”

“Yeah, I’ll heat it up.” Buffy pulled a cup out of the fridge and put it in the microwave before taking a drink out of the orange juice carton.

“Thanks, pet,” Spike said.

“Excuse me,” Giles tried again. “I’m not sure I understand–“ he pulled his glasses off and floundered until he located a handkerchief on his desk.

“Buffy’s pussy is amazing!” Spike’s dick enthused.

“You’re not so bad yourself, sugar,” her vagina replied.

Giles walked to his bookshelves and grabbed a tumbler and a bottle of scotch. He poured himself half a glass, hesitated, filled the tumbler the rest of the way up, and downed the entire thing. Buffy met Spike’s eyes as Giles clinked the bottle against the glass as he poured himself another. Spike looked terrified.

The microwave beeped and she brought Spike his blood, then remained standing beside him.

“So, Glory.” Giles swallowed hard. “Glory is still around and searching for the key?”

“It appears that way,” Buffy said.

“And you thought this was an excellent time to…to…start a relationship?” Giles took a large sip of whiskey.

“It’s not like we planned it, Rupes.” Spike rubbed his temples. “Just kind of happened.”

“Buffy hadn’t gotten off with Riley…um, ever,” Her vagina helpfully added. “But now we’ve orgasmed so many times in one night I lost count.” It sounded very happy. Buffy furrowed her brow. Well, she was happy about it too and she couldn’t blame her vagina for being pleased, but did it have to brag?

“Can give you more anytime you want, honey. I’m getting ready to go just thinking about your warm, wet, tight embrace,” Spike’s penis said in a seductive rumble. Spike tensed like he might have to flee. 

“How did…Buffy, I mean, it talks…” Giles looked completely lost.

“It can be really sweet? And Spike’s been super helpful lately and he can be kind of sweet too.” Buffy was a little upset that Giles wasn’t seeing how good she and Spike could be together. She needed someone that could truly help her, someone she wouldn’t have to babysit on patrol or worry needlessly about because they didn’t quite fit into her world. 

“Oi, you take that back. The big bad isn’t sweet.” Spike sounded anything but serious. She patted his arm. 

Giles sighed loudly. “You did say your…girl parts became conversational after the first time–“ Giles threw back the end of his scotch. “After the first time you and Spike were intimate?”

“Yup.” 

“Never heard of a sexually transmitted curse.” Spike reached out and threaded his fingers through hers. It felt right. She squeezed his hand.

“I actually might have,” Giles said, his brows drawing together. “Shall we meet tomorrow afternoon at the Magic Box? That should give me plenty of time to read through the manuscripts I need to in order to refresh my memory.” He closed his eyes. “If you wish you can stay here until-“

“No!” Both her vagina and Spike’s penis yelled simultaneously.

“I’m making up for lost time,” her vagina continued. “Spike hasn’t even licked me yet.” 

“Sixty-nine?” Spike’s dick hopefully suggested.

“Good idea, sugar,” her vagina replied.

Giles looked like he was working on a heart attack.

“We’ll just be going.” Spike tugged on Buffy’s hand. She would have to apologize to her Watcher sometime later, when she wasn’t in danger of her vagina monologuing about the wonders of Spike’s penis. 

“See you tomorrow!” Buffy called as she followed Spike outside.

Her vagina giggled. “If she’s able to walk!”


	14. Dump-o-Gram

 

“In a hundred years, I’ve never seen anything as half as lovely as you.”

There was a happy sigh. “Tell me more, sugar.”

“You’re all I’ve ever dreamed of, so warm and snug and soft and…”

“Oh my god, are they going to be like this the whole time?” Buffy hissed, clutching Spike’s hand tightly while they made their way through the sewers to the magic shop. He’d offered to meet her there after she went home to change, but she’d totally chickened out about facing her friends with a talking vagina—that apparently had no filter—without backup. Especially not after everything she’d done with Spike last night. And this morning.  

Spike shrugged. “Seems like.”

Buffy squeezed his hand even tighter. Spike squeezed back instead of complaining that she was hurting him like any of her previous boyfriends would have and she was grateful all over again that he was the one standing next to her now.

She’d managed to get in and out of her house with minimum fuss, tossing on a change of clothes and running a brush through her hair, which looked like she’d been through multiple hurricanes this time. Spike had met her in the sewer tunnel closest to her house and even in that dark, stinky place, he’d lit up when she appeared. It really did make a girl feel special. Maybe her vagina was onto something. She crossed her fingers that her friends would see the possibilities too. Giles hadn’t seemed too keen on her new…thing with Spike last night, but it was hard to tell if her Watcher was more horrified by the vampire layage or her uber-frank vagina.

Spike came to a sudden halt and looked up at a nondescript ladder that led to the basement of the magic shop before glancing over at Buffy. “Ready?”

Buffy nodded, took a deep breath, reluctantly released his hand, and started climbing.

“Is she getting naked again?” She heard Spike’s penis whisper. “Finally! I miss my honey.”

“Shut up,” Spike hissed back.

“I miss you too, sugar!” Buffy’s vagina called.

Buffy looked back over her shoulder at the vampire and raised her eyebrows. His expression was one of such innocence it practically screamed guilty. “Are you staring at my butt?”

Spike adjusted the growing bulge in his pants. “Yeah.” His sheepish expression was adorable. Buffy was tempted to climb right back down and into his lap, except she’d rather not get naked in the sewers and they were supposed to meet Giles. Her vagina was right, she did miss him. It was a wonder she hadn’t spontaneously combusted from all the pent up need Riley’d never bothered to take care of. She hadn’t been this relaxed in ages.

“Can I see?” Spike’s penis asked eagerly.

“Maybe later,” Buffy suggested impishly, enjoying the way Spike’s eyes widened in astonishment. She felt her heart (…and vagina) flutter at his reaction every time she said something he apparently hadn’t been expecting. It was incredible and a little frightening to know she had the power to make him that happy.

“Why didn’t we wear a skirt?” Buffy’s vagina lamented. “It’s stifling in these pants.”

“Because we never would have made it here,” Buffy answered, boosting herself up into the basement of the Magic Box. Spike’s head popped up a moment later and she couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across her face as his eyes immediately searched the room and landed on her before he climbed out of the sewers as well.

He gave her a small smile before rubbing the back of his head anxiously. “You sure you want me along?”

Buffy tried not to roll her eyes. He’d been asking her variations of the same question since she’d told him she didn’t want to hide their…whatever it was. Were they in a relationship? Maybe she’d better make sure she was broken up with Riley before she worried about defining her thing with Spike.

“Yes,” she said firmly, closing the distance between them and standing on her tiptoes to brush a kiss across his lips. At least, that’s what she’d been planning to do, until their lips actually made contact. A moment later her hands were working their way under his shirt while his tongue plundered her mouth and he’d lifted her up onto a nearby table. Buffy moaned against his mouth and wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him close.

“Yes!” his erection crowed, pressing insistently against her center. Spike’s fingers were slipping under the waistband of her jeans. “You ready, honey?”

“And willing,” Buffy’s vagina gasped. “Come fill me up, sugar.” Buffy was fumbling with the buckle of Spike’s jeans when the sound of a door opening made her freeze.

“Hello?” Anya’s voice called down the stairs. “Spike, if that’s you, stay out of my burba weed!” Spike stopped moving too, pulling back just far enough so he could meet Buffy’s eyes. “What? No, that’s not on sale!” A door slammed overhead.

Buffy bit her lip, reaching up to cup Spike’s face and reluctantly unwrapping her legs from around his waist. “Maybe hold that thought?” she whispered.

“What?” Spike’s penis asked in distress. Buffy’s vagina let out something that sounded suspiciously like a stifled sob.

Spike sighed. “Sure, pet.”

Buffy gently patted the front of his jeans. “Sorry,” she told his penis.

His penis emitted a haughty sniff, but still strained towards her fingers. Buffy glanced up at Spike and this time succeeded in giving him a quick kiss. “Let’s go see if Giles found what he was looking for.” She hopped down from the table. “Thanks for coming with.” Spike’s grin was so bright, it was a wonder it didn’t light up the basement.

***

Spike sauntered through the basement door into the main shop with Buffy behind him. Every time she smiled at him, he was tempted to look over his shoulder and make sure she wasn’t directing it at someone else.

Anya was finished up a sale, the witches were having a discussion up in the loft, and Harris, strangely, had his nose buried in a book. Buffy nudged him, and Spike reluctantly headed in the boy’s direction while wishing he could convince Buffy to go back downstairs so they could finish what they started before all her mates turned her against him.

“Hey,” Xander jerked his chin in greeting as Spike joined him at the scarred wooden table. Spike narrowed his eyes and waited for some kind of insult, but Harris seemed preoccupied with whatever he was reading. “Did you know gnomes were actually a thing? And that they’ll eat your eyes out of your head?”

“Uh.” Spike said, feeling bewildered. “Yeah, actually. Nasty little buggers.”

Xander shuddered. “How the hell does Giles sleep at night?”

“The Watcher thinks gnomes did this? Never known one smart enough to cast a curse.”

Xander finally lifted his eyes from the page he’d been staring at. “So far he’s remembered whatever we’re looking for is small and travels in packs. He’s been kinda distracted all day for some reason. Hey, Buffy.”

“Hey,” Buffy said nervously, sitting down in a chair and scooting it a little closer to Spike. His heart warmed, and then began to glow as her hand grazed his, sliding their fingers together. He hadn’t dared to hope, but maybe she really was thinking of him as more than just a convenient way to scratch her itch. “Um, where’s Giles?”

“In his office. He said we were too loud. And the lights were too bright.”

“He’s hungover,” Anya added, coming over to join them. “Hello, Spike and Spike’s penis.”

“Hello,” his prick replied politely as Spike nodded in greeting. “Thanks for the shopping tips yesterday. My honey’s gonna look like a million bucks.”

“Hey!” Buffy’s puss exclaimed. “You said I was already perfect!” Buffy immediately turned bright red.  

Xander’s jaw dropped. He blinked at Buffy in confusion and then at everyone else gathered around the table. “Did you guys hear-”

“Uh,” Spike started, his eyes darting to Buffy. Her hand tightened around his. 

“You are!” his cock said, sounding panicked. “I just thought you wanted…”

“Maybe you’d like to see any old vagina in crotchless panties,” Buffy’s lovely quim pouted.

Buffy dropped her head onto her hand and groaned. Anya’s eyebrows lifted, and Harris was still slackjawed.

“Of course not!” his dick exclaimed. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted, honey, I swear! You know I love the way you squeeze me just right. You’re so tight and wet and-”

“Okay!” Buffy stood up, interrupting Spike’s prick. Spike looked at her questioningly, but she just kept hold of his hand and straightened her shoulders like she was preparing for battle. She looked bloody gorgeous. “So, um, here’s the thing. I caught Spike’s curse.”

Xander continued to look like he was trying to puzzle out a foreign language. The witches had descended from their perch and were wearing identical worried expressions. “You were cursed too?” Tara asked.

“Kind of?” Buffy hedged. Harris’ eyes had dropped to where Spike’s hand was clutched tightly in Buffy’s grasp.

“What do you mean, kind of?” Willow asked suspiciously.

Buffy blew out an exasperated breath and put her free hand on her hip. “I mean, I caught it because I slept with Spike, okay?”

“You…” Xander appeared completely lost.

“And Spike?” Willow gasped. Tara just eyed Spike consideringly, which he appreciated.

“And me!”  Spike’s prick called. “And my honey, who’s the most gorgeous thing I’ve ever had wrapped around me.”

“Aw, sugar,” Buffy’s puss cooed. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

“Oh, just you wait,” Spike’s cock purred “Last night was only a warm up.”

Buffy’s quim let out a high-pitched giggle and Buffy hastily sat down again. “Anyways!” Buffy said loudly. “So Giles hasn’t found the cure yet?”

Anya shook her head. “You do look a lot more relaxed, I should have noticed.” She smiled brightly. “May you have many orgasms!”

Xander let out a gurgling noise.

Anya leaned forward, her face eager. “I’ve got the name of a great place that sells toys too, would you like it?”

“Oh, now you’re speaking my language,” Buffy’s cunny replied happily. Tara took a seat and pulled a book closer, but didn’t open it, instead propping her chin on one hand. Willow seemed torn between joining her girlfriend and running from the room. Spike had to admit that the lack of pointy wooden things stabbing him in the heart was a bit of a surprise.

Buffy looked taken aback. “Um, I don’t know…”

“Gnomes!” Xander yelped.

Willow hurriedly thumped several more heavy books on the table. “Or maybe sprites?”   

Spike made a mental note to get the name of that place from Anya. He peeked at Buffy out of the corner of his eye. Or maybe he’d have her do it, seemed like a proper girly thing to bond over, and apparently she wasn’t immune to feeling a little jealously. As if he could so much as look at another woman when she filled every part of him with her scent, her taste, the feel of her skin, the way her tits…bloody hell, he was going to pop if he didn’t get a moment alone with her.

The bell over the door rang cheerfully before Spike could suggest they scarper off to the back room. He looked up to see who it was and immediately wished he hadn’t. His heart sank like a rock.

Anya stood, her face falling as she caught sight of the newcomer. “Oh, it’s you. I thought it was a customer.”

“Who’s here?” Spike’s cock hissed.

Buffy’s cunny snorted. “From the sudden dry spell I’m experiencing, I’m guessing Mr. Two-pump Chump.”

***

Xander let out laugh before slapping a hand over his mouth. Spike’s penis snickered a bit longer.

“Um, hi Riley,” Willow said weakly.

Riley frowned at their gathering before switching to a glare when he caught sight of Spike. “What the hell is he still doing here?”

Buffy started to rise from her chair. She wasn’t sure she was going to be able to pry Spike’s hand from hers without a crowbar, he was gripping it so tightly. She took a deep breath as his fingers slowly relaxed before he dropped her hand completely and his shoulders slumped. It made her heart ache. “Still helping us figure out this curse, Riley. Why are you here?”

Her former boyfriend’s brow furrowed. “We need to talk, Buffy. Can we-” He glanced at Spike. “Go somewhere else?”

“What?” Spike’s penis asked in alarm. “No! Please don’t take my honey away!” It sounded slightly hysterical. Spike slumped even further in his seat.

Buffy slid a reassuring hand down Spike’s arm and took a step towards Riley. “I’m not sure what we need to talk about Riley, things seemed pretty clear to me.”

He put his hands on his hips. “Buffy, I’m just trying to fix things between us.”

Spike’s penis let out a little sob. Xander was looking between Riley and Spike worriedly.

“You mean you finally took an anatomy class?” Buffy’s vagina asked sarcastically. “Please, my sugar’s ten times the penis yours is. And I don’t mean that figuratively.”

Riley’s gaze dropped to the front of Buffy’s jeans. “Oh yeah, and I got cursed too,” Buffy said, waving a dismissive hand. “It’s a whole thing.”

“What…how?” Riley sputtered.

“We were sick and tired of having a ménage a moi every time you left us high and dry, that’s how!” Buffy’s vagina exclaimed.

“You tell him, honey!” Spike’s penis called.

Buffy dropped her head onto her hand as Riley’s face began to turn a strange shade of puce. “What the hell is your…is it talking about?” Riley gestured at Buffy’s lower body, apparently unable to even say the word aloud.

Buffy sighed in annoyance. No wonder he’d been so lousy in bed. She’d woken up at one point last night to find Spike resting his head on her hip while he’d whispered sweetly naughty things to her nether regions. That alone had been enough to make her instantly wet, but it didn’t stop him from spending a very long time between her thighs, his tongue and fingers driving her to orgasm again and again until she’d felt practically boneless.

“My vagina?” Buffy asked archly. She heard Willow stifle a giggle. 

“I also like the word pussy,” Anya said thoughtfully.

“Me too,” Tara added. “But cunt always sounds so guttural.” Buffy wasn’t the only one to turn and look at Willow’s girlfriend in surprise. Willow was beaming.

“Whatever,” Riley huffed. “That’s not the point. How did it get cursed?”

“We found a better penis,” Buffy’s vagina announced loudly. “Weren’t you listening?”

Buffy winced as Riley’s jaw dropped. “And we broke up!” Buffy added hastily.

“So you…with that?” Riley asked in disbelief, pointing at Spike. “What the hell were you thinking?”

“Hey!” Xander stood up. “Let’s keep this civil, man, okay?”

“We were thinking my sugar fills us up just right,” Buffy’s vagina purred. “He’s big and thick and knows how to treat a lady. Which is pretty much the opposite of you.”

Riley’s face was nearly purple as he took a step towards Buffy. “You’re really going to throw away what we had for some…some soulless demon?” Buffy heard another chair scrape across the floor behind her.

“I…” Buffy started.

“Like that’s even a choice,” Buffy’s vagina snorted. “I’d rather polish my pearl any day of the week then fake one more orgasm for you.”

“Wow, no wonder you’ve been so uptight,” Anya observed.

“Maybe not now, Ahn,” Xander hissed.

“Fake..?” Riley said faintly.

Buffy felt strong fingers slide between her own as Spike stepped up to stand beside her, and all the tension in her muscles began to drain away. Everything became crystal clear in that moment. Riley had never belonged in her world, just like she’d tried to tell him after he’d first learned about her calling. Slaying was a game to him, something he could take or leave, depending on his mission. It wasn’t necessary to him, and he was never going to understand that part of her.

“It’s over, Riley,” Buffy said firmly.

Giles chose that moment to exit his office, a tumbler of amber liquid in his hand once more. “Oh, excellent, you’re all here. I think I’ve found…” he trailed off, frowning at everyone in confusion.

“Your Slayer is sleeping with a vampire!” Riley announced. Buffy let out an indignant noise as Giles sighed heavily.

“Yes, I’m aware, thank you.”

“Aren’t you going to stop her?” Riley asked in disbelief.

Giles took off his glasses and rubbed his temple. “I haven’t been successful in stopping her from doing much of anything she sets her mind to. So, no.”

“Buffy, if you don’t want to be with me, I’ve been offered another ops job.” Riley paused dramatically. “In South America.” 

“Have a nice trip,” Buffy’s vagina said cheerfully. “Don’t bother to write.”

Riley stared at her expectantly, but Buffy just shrugged. “What she said.” Her ex-boyfriend spun on his heel and slammed through the door of the Magic Box, making the bell jingle alarmingly before it settled down.

There was a long minute of silence.

“So,” Giles finally said. “Shall we get to work on breaking this curse?” 


	15. Blowing In The Wind

 

“I didn’t think pixies were real,” Spike said, his face perplexed. “Drusilla was always on about them, but I thought they were just in her head.”

Buffy’s vagina snorted. “Whatever.” Buffy glared down at her crotch. Her girl-parts had been in a snit ever since it figured it that they were dressing like an actual nurse in ugly green hospital scrubs instead of a sexy one. In private she’d promised her vagina she would get a slutty nurse outfit to wear for Spike’s penis, though she was so going to make Spike wear something in return. Like a cowboy hat, or a fedora, and nothing else.

It turned out that Spike had been cursed by pixies, though why was still a question. There was a counter spell, but it required a very specific ingredient that could only be found by killing a sinrax demon on the night of the full moon and harvesting it’s, uh, whatever organ with a silver knife in the shape of a lightning bolt.

Thankfully, it turned out the sinrax ingredient was chemically the same as atropine, which could be found in any hospital in the cart used when there was an emergency. Willow looked on the internet and found a picture of the purple box it came in so Buffy and Spike would know what they were trying to steal. There’d never been a question they were going to be the one’s doing the pilfering. It was their curse, after all. 

“Honey, don’t be like that,” Spike’s penis said. “I promise I had nothing to do with that thought.”

Her vagina sighed.

Spike was massaging his temples.

He was dressed in a hospital gown and sitting in a wheelchair Xander had liberated from...somewhere. Since Spike had spent part of a year stuck in a wheelchair—which she now felt an eensy bit terrible about—she knew it wasn’t easy for him being in one again, but he’d acquiesced finally with his usual bad grace.

“Thank you,” she said, putting a hand on his shoulder. Giles had dropped them off a little ways from the ER, and they were hoping to sneak in mostly unnoticed and follow somebody through the card controlled door into the staff only area.

Spike picked up her hand and kissed her fingertips. “It’ll all be worth it if we get to play nurse and patient later. Something’s swollen and I think you should have a look at it.” He turned his head to wink at her.

“Sugar?” her vagina asked, sounding faintly upset.

“Not currently with the swelling, but I wouldn’t mind giving you an injection later,” Spike’s penis rumbled.

Her vagina gave a bashful giggle.

“Actually, there’s quite a lot of room in this gown, even if it’s a bit breezy,” Spike’s dick continued. “It’s nice not to be cooped up.”

Spike looked heavenward. His fingers twitched and Buffy wondered if he’d brought his smokes with him. His duster was discreetly draped over the back of the chair so they had a place to secret their pilfered drugs. 

“Hush, you two, or you won’t be seeing each other at all for at least a day,” Buffy said as they approached the front door. She ignored the alarmed look Spike gave her over his shoulder as thankfully both her vagina and his dick took the threat seriously and shut up. Buffy figured there was no way they could know she was lying through her teeth and Spike’s head was big enough without him knowing she was actually contemplating rolling the chair into an empty room and climbing into his lap.

Though the wheelchair probably wouldn’t survive that. No biggie, they could just get on the exam table first. And the gown would give her awfully easy access, she could simply push it up and get her hands on him. His penis would like that, it’d complimented her more than once on her firm grip…

Buffy’s vagina made a soft whimper and Buffy shook her head to clear it. Right, mission.

Inside the ER the hospitals florescent lighting made Spike look exceptionally dead, but in a handsome way of course. He slumped down and curled up a little, the perfect picture of someone that was ill. Buffy lucked out and as she wheeled him towards the locked doors a harried-looking physician walked out, talking on a cell phone. He caught the door and held it open for Buffy as she pushed Spike through.

The place was like a maze, but so busy that the presence of one more person in scrubs with a patient didn’t raise any red flags. It took her a minute, but she eventually found a nearly empty corridor that had both linen carts and a bright cherry-red code cart. She pushed Spike in front of it and tried to stand so she was blocking his actions from any prying eyes. Spike easily popped open the plastic locks and opened two drawers before he found the one with meds in it. He grabbed the two purple boxes, checked the labels, and passed them to Buffy who slipped them into the pocket of his duster while he tried to make it look like no one had been messing with the code cart.

****

Spike glanced over his shoulder at Buffy again as she turned them to leave the ER. He wondered if she’d be up for a quickie in one of the exam rooms? It was beginning to feel like forever since he’d touched her instead of a few hours, and with Riley’s appearance the primal urge to remind Buffy that she was—in at least some ways—Spike’s girl now, was getting ridiculously hard to contain. He wanted to pull off those hideous scrub pants along with her knickers and pick her up so her legs were over his shoulders and he could feast to his heart's content.

It did wonders for a bloke’s self-esteem when the love of your life’s quim declared you a god and started rhapsodizing about how parades should be held in your honor. 

Buffy had looked thoroughly embarrassed and maybe a little jealous, which he understood. One of the times she’d had her mouth wrapped around his prick the damn thing had started telling her about how clever she was and that she was a wonderful and loyal friend. Buffy had beamed and Spike had been rather upset that it hadn’t been him that’d first told her those things, because she was brilliant and always steadfast with her mates.

This curse needed to be over and done with, though it was hard to knock it when he’d gotten him the girl. Strange turn, that one.

He spied an unoccupied room. “Buffy,” he purred, dumping all the sexiness he could into his voice. She might need a few clues because once she got focused on a task she could sometimes be blind to everything else.

“Empty room,” she panted. “Just be quick.”

Or not.

She pushed the wheelchair inside and he was immediately on his feet and reaching for her.

“Uh, can we talk now?” his cock asked.

“Sure,” Buffy said right before Spike’s mouth covered hers. He pushed her back against the exam table.

“Thank god,” her puss said. “I’ve been dripping like a leaky faucet.”

“Need someone to, uh, lay a little pipe for you, ma’am?” his dick asked. Spike winced and he could feel Buffy giggle.

“Sugar, I know you can stuff me so full not even daylight can get in.”

“Gotta hurry, luv, no time for the niceties. I’ll make it up to you later,” he said. He turned Buffy around and bent her over the exam table. In one motion he had her bare with her scrubs and undies down around her ankles

“Psst,” her vagina hissed. “You should probably get your own hand on your nub, sweetie. This is going to be hard and fast.” It sounded gleeful.

“Torpedo incoming!” his cock cried as he lined himself up with Buffy’s opening.

“Bracing for impact!” her puss called back.

Spike grinned. He was going to miss all the tasteless dialogue when the curse was broken.

He rammed himself home and Buffy groaned. He worked her relentlessly and before he knew it she was moaning out her completion along with her cunny.

His cock was making mostly inarticulate noises, though it crowed when Buffy came again.

He sped up his pace until his own orgasm caught up with him and he came with a silent howl. “Oh, honey,” his prick moaned loudly. Spike collapsed forward and snuggled his face against the nape of Buffy’s neck while she caught her breath.

“Yay!” Buffy’s pussy said, sounding decidedly giddy.

“Double yay,” Spike’s dick responded, sounding smug.

****

Buffy was enjoying her Spike blanket and the way her knees had turned to jelly when the door to the exam room was ripped off its hinges.

Spike jumped back, growling loudly, as Buffy desperately grabbed her pants and yanked them into place.

“Well, not what I was expecting,” scoffed a female voice. Buffy’s stomach tumbled down into her sturdy yet comfortable nursing shoes. It was Glory in all her badly permed…er, glory.

“What the hell are you wearing?” Buffy asked. Glory was in scrubs like her own, only blue instead of green and she had a white doctor’s coat on with a nametag that said ‘Ben’. What? Buffy seriously couldn’t wrap her brain around that one. Had Glory killed Ben and taken his clothes? But why?

With a frustrated yell, Glory wrenched the name tag off and tossed it away. “One of my not so bright minions seemed to think you were keeping the key hidden in your underwear, but it seems to me the only thing in your pants–“ Her eyes landed on Spike. “Is a vampire.” Glory’s eyebrows shot up and Buffy crossed her arms. “A Slayer has a pet vampire. You can’t be the key, blondie, but maybe you have it hidden somewhere inside that well muscled body of yours.”

“Excuse me!” Buffy’s vagina barked. “You are so not getting your hands on him. Spike and his penis are taken.”

“You tell her, honey!” Spike’s dick called.

Glory looked confused right up until Buffy landed a punch on her cheek that snapped her head to the side. “He’s my boyfriend,” Buffy said, low and deadly, “and you better not forget it.” Huh, guess that answered that question. She’d make sure everyone else knew if she and Spike got out of here in one piece.

The next instant Buffy found herself flying through the air as Glory backhanded her. Buffy popped up on the other side of the exam table just in time to see a fully vamped out Spike launch himself at the hellgod. Buffy had enough time to realize Spike’s gown wasn’t tied all that well as she got an eyeful of his rear end before she hopped the exam table and waded back into the fray.

The fight spilled out into the hallway and then into more crowded areas of the ER. Staff and patients screamed and ran. Buffy knew even she and Spike together weren’t going to be able to stop  Glory, she was smacking them around like a cat with a couple of mice.

“If you hurt my sugar that is so going to be the end of you!” Buffy’s vagina called as Glory sent Spike crashing into a stand of IV poles. He was immediately on his feet again. Behind him an elderly lady with a walker was staring wide eyed at the open back of his gown. Buffy hoped he didn’t give the woman a heart attack.

Buffy tried for a quick combo, but only the first of the punches landed before she found herself launched into a part of the the ER with ‘Radiology’ stenciled on the wall . People scrambled out of the way as Glory stalked in after her. Spike pounced on Glory’s back, snarling and trying to bite. Buffy rushed to help him, only to get sent tumbling through a closed door as Glory sent Spike crashing back out into the hallway.

Something tugged hard at Buffy’s shirt. Buffy was spinning, looking for the source when, with a rip, a pen that’s she’d forgotten about tore out of her pocket and flew like an arrow towards the humming machine that dominated the room she was in.

There was a staff member cowering in a corner. “Uh, you got to be c-c-careful with the MRI,” he stammered. “The magnet is super powerful.”

“Duh,” she said. “And shouldn’t you be getting out of here? Gang on PCP? Animal bites?” The last one seemed to ring a bell and the terrified tech took off like a shot. Statistically, Sunnydale must have more cases of anemia secondary to animal bite than anywhere else in the world.

Buffy shakily stood as Glory paraded into the MRI room. “I am so done with you and your stupid vampire,” Glory spat. She was wiping something brown and runny off her face that smelled like antiseptic.

“Nice dye job,” Buffy said. The brown stuff was streaking Glory’s hair as well.

“I bet your lover will give up the key in order to get your corpse back!”

Buffy swallowed hard.

“I don’t want to die,” her vagina sniffed. “I only just found the perfect penis. It’s magnificent.”

Buffy was edging to the side and trying to find something to break the MRI’s observation window with.

“Don’t worry, honey,” Spike’s dick called. Buffy whipped her head around. Spike was standing outside the broken MRI room door, an oxygen tank in hand, the butt end pointed at Glory. “Your sugar’s coming!”

“Catch, bitch,” Spike growled. He brought his fist down on the tank and broke off the access nozzle. The tank launched like a missile at Glory’s chest. She caught it, but the momentum knocked her back against the MRI machine. She struggled, trying to hold the tank at bay. It took Buffy a minute to piece it all together. The tank was metal and the MRI’s magnet was trying to pull it in. Glory was having to fight that  as well as the jet from the force of the escaping gas.

Spike limped over to stand next to Buffy as they watched Glory thrash.

“Maybe we should run while we can,” he said quietly.

Buffy nodded, feeling her own aches and pains. Glory wouldn’t hang around if they were gone. She started to turn towards the MRI door when Glory gave a strangled yell.

Her features started to twist. “No! I can’t-” Her face became that of…Ben? There was a sickening crunch and Buffy hid her eyes against Spike’s shoulder. A human hadn’t been able to overpower the MRI’s magnetic field and the oxygen tank had crushed vital parts as it completed its journey to be as close to the magnet as possible.

“Glory was a guy named Ben?” Spike said dazedly.

“Looks like,” Buffy mumbled.

“Let’s get my coat and get the sodding hell out of here.”

She nodded.

Spike pulled the fire alarm as they passed it and the sprinklers came on, adding to the confusion. It was easy to retrieve his duster, atropine vials intact, and make their bruised way out to the parking lot. They managed to jump a low wall and get out of sight in an alley before any of the cops that were trying to control the crowd noticed them.

There was a sigh of relief as Spike slipped his duster back on.

“Well,” Buffy’s vagina said. “I don’t know about you, sugar, but I am all kinds of worked up.” Buffy looked down at the front of her scrubs in disbelief.

“A spot of violence always does me good,” Spike’s dick purred. Spike had an incredulous expression on his face as he stared at the once again tented out front of his hospital gown.

“Do you  think it’s ever going to get any better?” Buffy asked with a small smile as Spike pulled her into a kiss.

“Bloody hell, Slayer, I certainly hope not.”


	16. Cheeckup

 

There was an incredibly annoying honking noise happening somewhere nearby that finally became irritating enough for Buffy to drag her lips away from Spike’s and turn to see if it was something she could punch.

Her eyes landed on Giles’ car. Spike didn’t miss a beat, his mouth moving down so he could nibble on her collarbone while his hands snuck up under her scrubs to fondle her bare breasts.

“Um, Spike?” Buffy regretfully unwrapped one of her legs from around his hip.

“What?” her vagina exclaimed. “No, go back!”

“Honey?” Spike’s penis called, sounding upset.

Spike finally lifted his head, frowning. “Slayer?”

“Our ride’s here.” Buffy gestured at the car, whose occupants were studiously staring in the opposite direction. Xander’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel and Giles was sitting in the passenger seat rubbing his temple, his glasses dangling from his fingertips. Spike’s face fell and she would swear even the tent in the front of his hospital gown sagged a little. Buffy patted his chest in sympathy. “Me too.” He looked marginally happier.

Buffy eyed the backseat and gestured for Spike to climb in first before she settled herself on his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. Spike stared at her in surprise for a moment before his expression changes to an adoring one that made her insides all melty. No one had ever looked at her quite the way Spike did, even before he’d been cursed. He slid his arms around her waist and held her tight as Xander lurched his way into second gear.

“Uh, guys?” Spike’s penis said over the sound of the engine sputtering unhappily. “I think you forgot a step?” It was poking against Buffy’s bottom, separated only by the thin cotton of her scrub pants and Spike’s hospital gown. She shifted slightly, her pussy throbbing with unfulfilled need. Ugh, she wished Xander would hurry up and get them back to the Magic Box already.

“I told you we should have gone with the sexy nurse outfit!” Buffy’s vagina exclaimed, sounding miffed. “My sugar could be filling me up right now, but no, you had to wear these hideous pants.”

Xander ground the gears so loudly that even Buffy winced. “Must you?” Giles asked in exasperation. Buffy had no idea if he was talking to Xander or to her vagina. Hopefully the former, because she wasn’t sure if she could handle things getting even weirder than they already were.

Spike’s hands were sneaking back up under the ugly green shirt Buffy was wearing. Willow and Tara had said they’d need a few minutes to finish up the potion once the stolen—er, unknowingly donated—goods were delivered. Just enough time to placate some chatty nether regions one last time before things went back to normal. Buffy felt a little pang in her chest when she thought about Spike’s penis no longer telling her she was perfect in every way. If she didn’t know any better she’d think she was kind of going to miss it.

“Never would have made it into the damn hospital if you’d worn a sexy nurse outfit,” Spike rumbled quietly in Buffy’s ear, making her shiver. His hands cupped her breasts and his nimble fingers toyed with her hard nipples. Buffy rolled her hips slowly in his lap and he stifled a groan against her neck.

His penis, unfortunately, had no such compunctions about keeping quiet. “This patient’s critical, nurse!”

“Hang on, Sugar, I’ve got what you need!” Buffy’s vagina called.

Giles cleared his throat loudly in the front seat. “Did you get the medication?”  

“Yes,” Buffy managed to say without sounding too breathless. She tugged one of the boxes from Spike’s coat pocket and passed it up to her Watcher. “And, uh, we don’t need to worry about Glory anymore.”

“What?” Giles said, startled into turning around before he quickly faced front again. “What happened?”

Buffy looked at Spike. He’d gone entirely still and silent, watching her. “Spike,” Buffy said quietly.

“Spike happened?” Giles sounded confused.

Buffy smiled. “Yeah.” Spike’s lips were on hers a moment later, his tongue sweeping through her mouth as she clung to the lapels of his jacket and moaned, her whole body trembling with relief and happiness. Her family was safe, Glory was no more, and her new boyfriend had given her more orgasms in the last twenty-four hours than she’d had in her whole life, she was pretty sure. The car lurched and she nearly slipped from Spike’s lap, but he held her fast and let out a growl that made her toes curl.

“Okay, we’re here!” Xander announced shrilly. “Everybody out!”  He and Giles were both out of the car before he’d finished his sentence.

For a moment the only sound was the low ping of the car’s open-door warning system. Buffy glanced around and realized they were parked in the alley behind the magic shop. She snuggled into Spike’s embrace. “Wanna help me out of these clothes?” she asked impishly.

Spike’s grin was wide. “Why, Slayer, I thought you’d never ask.”

How they managed to get through the doorway to the back room of the Magic Box, Buffy would never know. She’d been pretty much wrapped around Spike, and the vampire was trying to feel her up while carrying her, resulting in some rather precarious positioning.

Her scrub top was gone the moment they got inside the door, and Spike’s duster had been abandoned in the backseat of the car. Buffy gasped as he gently bit one of her nipples with blunt teeth while she pushed up his hospital gown and grasped his hard shaft in one hand.

Spike’s penis groaned. “Is it time for my sponge bath?”

Buffy dropped to her knees, keenly aware of the look of awe on Spike’s face as she leaned in and gave the head of his cock a long, slow lick. “I’m afraid I’m out of sponges,” she told it. “So we’ll just have to make do.”

“Oh, nurse!” it exclaimed, sounding delighted. “You’re a very naughty girl.”

Buffy drew the head of Spike’s penis between her lips and closed her eyes, relishing the long, low, moan Spike let out above her. His hands tangled in her hair as she sucked him deeper, pushing his gown up out of the way. His cock was heavy on her tongue as she swirled and sucked, listening to his penis grow more and more incoherent.

“Only the best for our favorite patient,” her vagina purred. “And I’ve got just the prescription for that huge...problem you’re having.” 

Spike let out a snort that sounded faintly like laughter, but was cut off by a gasp as Buffy took as much of him in her mouth as she could and stroked the underside of his shaft with her tongue. “Oh fuck, pet.” His hands were tugging her hair and sending pulses of bliss straight down to pool between her legs. “Buffy.” She let him pull her most of the way off his cock and looked up at his dazed face. “Let me…”

Buffy gently sucked on the red tip of his straining erection for a moment, letting her teeth graze him and making his breathing hitch. “You promised me a necklace,” she pouted. Spike let out a strangled noise.

“We totally did,” Spike’s penis said fervently. “You just give me one good suck and show me your tits, gorgeous.”

Even as Buffy leaned into do exactly that, she saw Spike’s penis twitch, and watched in fascination as he reached down to grasp his spasming cock. His release hit her breasts and neck as she lifted her chin and met his wide eyes. He was staring at her like he was terrified she would disappear if he looked away, his chest heaving with unneeded breaths.

Spike dropped to his knees in front of her and dragged her in for a deep kiss. She heard the fabric ties of his gown ripping as he tugged it off and used it to clean her up. “Christ, Buffy,” he muttered, sounding stunned. He pushed her down against the training mats and crawled over her, helping her wiggle out of her pants. She could see his cock slowly swelling again, hanging heavy between his legs.

“Hello, sugar,” her vagina said coyly. “I think it’s time to take your temperature.”

“I’ve got a thermometer you can borrow,” Spike’s penis purred.

Buffy kicked the scrubs off her feet and wrapped one leg around Spike’s hip. He positioned his recovered cock at her entrance and pushed in without stopping, slowly filling her until he was buried to the hilt. “Spike,” Buffy breathed.

“Oh no, sugar,” her vagina groaned. “You’re a bit chilled. However are we going  to warm you up?” Buffy clamped her inner walls around Spike’s cock as they began to move together, her hips lifting to meet his every stroke.

“Tighter, nurse, squeeze me tighter!” Spike’s penis called.

Buffy could barely think, her mind focused on the building pleasure between her legs and the feel of Spike’s hands sliding over her body, holding her close. His fingers dipped down between them to rub against her clit, tipping her over the edge into orgasm as he relentlessly pumped his cock inside of her and her inner walls fluttered and pulsed. She wasn’t sure if she was the one screaming his name or her vagina was, but either way he was bound to know how much she was enjoying this.

“Buffy,” Spike gasped as he came, his vampire mask momentarily slipping into place as his eyelids fell shut and his entire body shuddered. Buffy watched in fascination, reaching up to gently stroke the line of his ridged brow. Even like this he was handsome. His fangs slowly retreated as he bent to kiss her again, his lips tenderly caressing her own. She wondered how she had ever believed he was incapable of affection. He treated her with more care than anyone else ever had.

Buffy wrapped her legs around his torso and rolled them both until she was sitting up, straddling his hips. Spike’s cock twitched where they were still connected. She cradled his face between his hands. “Thank you,” she said softly.

Spike’s brow furrowed. “For what?”

“Protecting Dawn, helping me, for being…I don’t know, you I guess?” Buffy blushed, feeling embarrassed. All the frankness coming from her girl parts was rubbing off, apparently.

“And thank you, sugar, for that injection of lovin’.” Her vagina hummed contentedly. 

“You know I’ll give it to you anytime, honey.” Spike’s penis sounded smug.

Spike looked down at their joined bodies, amusement flickering across his face. “Reckon we should go see if the witch’s brew works?”

Buffy slumped down to lie against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her. “I think I might miss them a little,” she confessed.

Spike kissed her temple. “I’ll spout dirty lines anytime you’d like.”

Buffy giggled. “Promise?”

“Please, where do you think he gets it from?”

***

“Hello?” Anya called gaily, flinging the door open between the magic shop and the training room. “Are you done yet?”

Buffy clutched Spike tighter as his hands slid down to cover her bare butt. He hoped she’d put it down as a protecting her virtue sort of gesture instead of a jealousy thing. He really preferred to keep her ass, and the rest of her, all to himself for as long as she’d allow it. “Anya!” Buffy yelped. “Couldn’t you just knock?”

“I did.” Anya smirked. “But someone was screaming about naughty nurses and apparently couldn’t hear me.”

“Oh my god.” Buffy buried her adorably red-tinged face against his shoulder as Spike turned his head toward Anya.

“We’ll be right there,” he said.

“Great!” Anya said cheerfully. “I’d like to get Xander home soon so I can play naughty nurse myself.” she closed the door again and there was a moment of silence before Buffy let out a muffled whimper against his shoulder.

“I’m going to have to move into a cave.”

Spike patted her ass sympathetically. “Crypt’s got a bit of cave to it. That work for you?”

Buffy sat up, momentarily distracting him with her tits. His cock was already starting to swell again, bloody insatiable thing that it was. He hadn’t quite figured out if that was part of the curse or just a byproduct of being near Buffy. Possibly both, though he was going to have to  get a grip on his greedy prick (and not in a fun way) if she was going to be bringing him around to see her friends and her mum like she’d mentioned. She was staring at him, he realized, a puzzled look on her face. He tensed up, wondering if she’d suddenly come to her senses and was about to kick him to the curb.

“You really would, wouldn’t you?” she asked.

He hadn’t a sodding clue what she was talking about. “Yes.” That seemed like a safe answer. Wait, unless she was asking about something bad.  “Uh, except if you didn’t want me to, then no.”

Her smile was the sweetest thing he’d ever seen. “Let me hide out with you,” she clarified.

Spike blinked at her and reached up to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Not much I wouldn’t let you do.” He smiled sheepishly, and watched in fascination as she licked her lips, her eyes focused on his mouth.

“That sounds a little dangerous.”

He put a little leer into his grin. “Depends on what you consider dangerous.”

“Are we playing cops and robbers now?” Spike’s prick asked hopefully. “Which one am I?”

“I call cop!” Buffy’s vagina exclaimed. “You can be the very, very bad man.”

“Ooh, are you going to punish me?” It sounded thrilled at the prospect.

Buffy reached up and pinned Spike’s wrists to the floor over his head, smirking down at him in a way that caused his dick go from merely stiff to hard as a rock. He could probably pound nails with the thing. He rolled his hips, enjoying the little gasp that escaped Buffy’s lips.

The door banged open, making Buffy yip in surprise and her pussy clamp down around his cock. Both he and his prick moaned in unison. “Sometime today?” Anya said impatiently. “If you traumatize Xander any more he’s not going to be in the mood at all.” The door closed forcefully behind her.

“Um.” Buffy looked down at Spike, her face a lovely shade of crimson. “Maybe later?”

Spike nodded fervently as she released him and pulled herself off his dick with excruciating slowness. “But who’s going to make sure my sugar gets his just desserts?” Buffy’s vagina asked in distress .

“Don’t worry, honey.” Spike’s penis sounded very worried. “I’m sure you’ll get a chance to punish me later. Right, guys?”

“Of course,” Buffy assured Spike’s penis as he propped himself up on his elbows and watched in wonder. Truth be told, he was a bit worried he’d wake up soon and find out this insanity hadn’t been anything but a particularly loony dream. She stood up and grabbed the clothes they’d changed out of before leaving for the hospital, handing Spike his jeans and t-shirt like it was something she’d done a million times before.

He got dressed quickly, watching Buffy fuss over her hair for a minute, his fingers itching to sink deep into those tresses. God, she was beautiful.

“I hate pants,” Spike’s prick said sulkily.

Spike looked down at his own crotch and couldn’t really bring himself to contradict his cock. Pants really were a special kind of torture whenever he caught a glimpse of Buffy. “Me too, mate.”

Buffy lifted her eyebrows at him before shaking her head and reaching out to grasp his hand, linking their fingers together. “Ready?”

“Whenever you are, Slayer.”

Buffy gave him that look again, like she couldn’t quite believe her own ears but was grateful all the same. It made him want to put a little extra swagger in his step. How had those other wankers ever left her, when she had the power to make a man feel ten feet tall?

He beat her to the door and opened it for her, letting her take the lead as they entered the magic shop. He could hear the gentle clink of glass against glass from the direction of the Watcher’s office and made a mental note to snag a bottle after Rupert replaced all the ones he’d gone through this week. Giles appeared in the doorway, a tumbler in his hand. “Oh thank god, let’s get this over with.”

Buffy’s hand tightened around Spike’s. “Hey, um, are you sure this is safe for Spike? For vampires, I mean.” Spike glanced at her in astonishment.

Willow looked surprised, but her girlfriend just nodded. “It’s all perfectly harmless and vampire-friendly,” Tara assured her. Harris was sitting at the wooden table next to a smoking cauldron and looked slightly queasy.

Buffy lifted her chin defiantly. “Good. Because I wouldn’t want anything to happen to my boyfriend.” The Watcher choked on his scotch and the rest of the scoobies appeared resigned. Spike thought he might pass out from either sheer joy or shock. The weather in hell must have just cooled off a couple of degrees.

“This is the best week ever!” Spike’s penis declared ecstatically. 


	17. Happy

 

“Kind of quiet out here tonight,” Spike said as he tilted his head back to look at the stars. They hadn’t seen so much as a single fledge for the entirety of patrol. It’d been a week since they’d ended Glory’s reign and the baddies were mostly still trembling in their hidey-holes.

Buffy scoffed. “Seriously? You just jinxed us. Now all of hell will descend and eat us alive!”

“What about just me eating you?” That sounded like an excellent plan.

“One track mind much?” Buffy stopped and put her fists on her hips and glared at him. Oh god. Didn’t she have any idea what her being all Slayer-like did to him… A tiny smile was playing around the corners of her mouth. The minx! She knew exactly what she was doing.  Two could play that game. He crossed his arms over his chest and raised his chin.

“Vampire, luv, maybe I meant draining you dry.”

“Psht, you know you like me better wet.” Buffy gasped, her hand flew to her mouth, and she blushed a delectable crimson.

Spike gave up on trying to look like the big bad and grinned goofily at her. There’s no way in ten thousand years she would have said something like that to the soldier boy.  Having had her pussy pipe up and making it impossible for her to live in any kind of denial had been good for her. And not to toot his own horn, but while the Slayer still had a lot of things to worry over, she seemed a lot more relaxed since she’d been getting off regularly.

He also was doing his best to help her out and he found it slightly on the amazing side that she was letting him. The other day he’d even hauled the family’s laundry down to the basement and got the washer going. Not that he’d been entirely without an ulterior motive. Once the machine had started its cycle he nabbed Buffy from the kitchen and shagged her silly with her sitting on top of the bloody racket-making contraption. The whole thing had turned out even better than he’d expected, because not only had it been great sex but when they’d finished she’d clung to him and told him he was the best boyfriend ever.

Well, he did try.

Buffy’s fingers intertwined with his and he gently swung their joined hands as they leisurely made their way towards his crypt. She’d told her mom she’d be out late, which boded well for him because it meant she was planning on post patrol nookie. Joyce had barely batted an eye when Buffy had told her mother Spike was her boyfriend, though the next night when he’d sat up with Joyce when she couldn’t sleep he’d caught a few hard edged questions before she’d relaxed and they’d had a companionable chat about a new shipment of art at the gallery. Dawn had been thrilled, right up until he’d told her off for being bratty towards Buffy. She’d called him a loser and slammed her bedroom door. Buffy had rolled her eyes and told him welcome to the family. 

He’d never been happier.

Even better was every night she met up with him to go on patrol. Though the slow pace lately gave him too much time to think. Spike was so busy cross-indexing all the things he wanted to do with his girl that he didn’t even realize they were being stalked until the vampire lunged out of the shadows. Bugger. Wasn’t it obvious the girl was already taken? The vamp was no fledge either. It looked and smelled like it hadn’t changed its clothes since the 1980s, and not the good part of the decade, either.

Buffy let go of Spike’s hand and launched herself into an attack, fists flying and the skirt she was wearing swinging so he got an eyeful of her smooth, tanned thighs.

Spike braced himself to help her, but she seemed to not be having much trouble. His prick was soon pushing insistently against the front of his pants and he could imagine the damn thing begging to be let out so it could see.

Well, nothing really standing in the way of that. He undid his belt and fly and loosely wrapped his fist around his erection, stroking himself as he watched Buffy pummeling the idiot that’d thought he had any kind of a chance against the Slayer.  The bleeding moronic vamp made a grab for Buffy’s stake but she backhanded the blighter and sent him crashing to the ground. In the next second he was dust.

“One more ticket punched for the highway to hell,” she said with a sniff before turning to look at Spike. Her eyes widened as they landed on his cock. “Spike! I could have been hurt and you’re getting yourself off?”

“No chance that lame excuse for a vamp was going to even get close to hurting you, luv, so I decided to enjoy the show and–“ Spike gestured downward with his chin. “This fellow was quite insistent he get to enjoy the view as well.”

Buffy looked indignant, but  then she dissolved into giggles. She sashayed towards him. “Well, my vagina says her sugar better get over here quick, she’s feeling lonely.”

“Oh, honey, don’t worry, I’ll get you all taken care of,” he purred. Letting go of himself, he gathered his girl against him for a kiss. She mauled his mouth, her lips demanding. His hand wandered up her thigh to trace the skin next to the edge of her knickers. She moaned into his mouth. Meaning to tease her clit, he swept his fingers over the frilly material covering her pussy.

Only…

There was a gap in it and he was able to touch bare skin. She couldn’t be wearing what he thought she was, could she? He pulled his hand out from under her skirt and took a step back, even though she mewled in protest. “Hang on, kitten, this I have to see.” Buffy but her lip and looked a little embarrassed as he quickly undid her skirt and pushed it to the ground. Bloody hell, she was wearing pink crotchless panties that were decorated with white bows. “You’re a wonder,” he said, a little afraid she might disappear and it’d turn out he’d been making her up this entire time. He sure as hell didn’t deserve her, but when had that ever stopped him?

“You just going to stand there staring?” she asked, innocently batting her eyelashes. “Isn’t the plan your dick gets hard and then you put it in the girl? Seems like step one’s been achieved, how about step two?”

With a growl, he tackled her, turned her around, and bent her over the nearest tombstone.

****

Buffy scrabbled to brace her hands on the slick marble of the marker and silently apologized to whomever the gravestone commemorated, because she wasn’t about to stop her boyfriend from having his way with her. She was aching with desire and her pussy was pulsing in what had to be Morse code that Spike’s penis needed to be in her, now.

He grabbed her hip with one hand and used the other to run the head of his dick over her crotch while he continued to murmur a steady stream of praise about how amazing she was. A girl could really get used to hearing all that gushing, but she wanted him to get on with the action. “Sugar, you ready? I’ve got a hundred-year flood going on over here.”

Spike chuckled. “Just testing the waters, honey, I’ll be diving in headfirst in a moment.”

Buffy shook her head. As weird as it was, she missed being able to talk to her pussy. It was the only one that’d really understood how she felt about her new boyfriend and had been his cheerleader. She even missed Spike’s cock talking to her. Somehow, in the absence of those voices, both she and Spike had mutually agreed that they’d remedy the situation by making up what they thought their respective bits would say to each other during sex. It was fun and let her feel totally free, which was something she treasured since most of the time there was so much duty she had to slog through.

Spike had nestled the head of his cock between the edges of the split in her underwear. Her legs trembled and with a twist of his hips he was inside her. She sighed in relief and joy as he filled her completely. Spike pulled back, nearly out, before surging back in. He repeated the process several times before pausing.

“The view’s really great from back here,” he said. “It’s like a magic trick.”

That was nice, but since she couldn’t see, “Less talky, more fucky.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He was as good as his word and eagerly started thrusting fast and hard into her. The panties--which she’d gotten because she knew he’d like them--quickly proved to have a side benefit. As Spike plunged in and out of her, the fabric over her clit was repeatedly pulled tight and released. It wasn’t quite the same as having it rubbed by either his fingers or hers, but it got the job done and it seemed like no time at all before she was seeing stars.

Spike made encouraging noises and patted her behind. “Y’know,” he panted between thrusts. “I think…I’m going to…draw a map of…the place. So I can mark off…where we’ve done it…I want to make sure…I’ve had you…up against, over, or on…every last bit.”

“I’ll buy you the pushpins.”  

Spike groaned and his rhythm sped up. She came again, gasping out his name and a few minutes later he joined her, groaning loudly as his cock bucked and pulsed inside her. After they recovered, he helped her do up her skirt.

“New favorite pair of Buffy-undies?” she asked shyly as he smoothed the wrinkles out of her shirt by running his hands over her boobs.

“Second favorite.”

“That blue pair, which I still haven’t found by the way, were hideous.”

“They were magical and you’re never going to find them, I’ve hidden them too well.”

Buffy rolled her eyes as he put his arm around her shoulders and steered her towards his crypt. It was certified pixie-free now by Willow and Tara. The witches had managed to catch one of the toothy little things and make it confess. It turned out Drusilla had sent them to spy on Spike and they’d cursed him because they’d gotten sick and tired of how much he was jerking off over Buffy.

After that, Tara and Willow had very quickly completed the removal and warding, and even Spike had appeared deeply embarrassed. Buffy had spent a good twenty-four hours worrying that Spike was going to ditch her and run back to Dru. Obviously the crazy chick still had feeling for him since she’d bothered to check up on him in her own weird way.

It’d taken a lot of reassurance and naked time for Spike to convince Buffy that he wasn’t going anywhere, ever, but she was sure now. He was hers and she had the sneaking suspicion that she was his, too.

“Can we veg on the couch for a while and watch TV?” she asked. 

Spike kissed the top of her head. “Anything my honey wants.”

“To snuggle with my boyfriend.”

“That sounds like it can be arranged.”

Buffy smiled. Whatever happened in the future, it was nice to know she had a true partner by her side. She was happy.

Very, incredibly, happy. Spike’s hand dropped down to fondle her ass. And so was her vagina.

**~FIN~ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading out little bit of craziness. We hope we made you laugh and laugh! We had a great time writing this and we're sad to see it end. If you enjoyed please drop us a line, we love knowing that people enjoyed reading it half as much as we did writing it! Long live SP & BV! <3


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